Puzzle Piece
by ThomE.Gemcity-06
Summary: On a Hunt for a shapeshifter, the Winchester's come across a girl that can no longer go home. The only thing they can do is take her in as one of their own. As the years pass, this girl becomes Deans new Hunting partner; chaos insues. Dean/MOC: later ch's
1. FindHER's KeepHER's

**a/n: Khuru, Ohio is not a real place; because I know nothing about any places anywhere and I am way to lazy to do any research, I made up Khuru, Ohio. Actually, Khuru was the name of a slave from a document that I read in my Ancient History class - but it makes a cool town name.**

**story-description: The Winchester's; John, Dean and Sam had found a hunt in Khuru, Ohio, a shapeshifter to be more pacific. Dean had been 18 then and Sam only 14 when John took them on the hunt. The shapeshifter had taken 13 year-old Jasmine Rhodes' appetence and commenced going on a killing spree of her friends and family. Sam was still to young to really participate in the hunt, so only Dean and John tracked the shapeshifter. The only twist with this hunt was that Jasmine's father killed the shapeshifter that looked like his daughter but had no idea of the truth. So Dean and John searched for the missing Jasmine, finding the 13 year-old in the sewer system tied up - she had been there for at least two months, only alive because the shifter needed her to be to access her memories. There was no way that the Winchester's would be able to return her, after everything that had happened. So John made the big decision of taking Jasmine into there little family and had been with them for six years now. Jasmine and Dean had always been closer than her and Sam because she was more like Dean even though she and Sam were closer in age. Sam, Sam complained allot, though never in front of Jasmine. John and Dean taught her how to hunt and boy was she good. It had been the four of them, then the three of them when Sam ran away to Harvard, and now it was just the two of them now that John had left them to their own devices.**

**John Winchester: Early 30's (34)**

**Dean Winchester: 18 years-old**

**Sam Winchester: 14 years-old**

**Jasmine Rhodes: 13 years-old.**

**Puzzle Piece**

**Prologue: "FIND**_**HER**_**'S KEEP**_**HER**_**'S"**

Dean used the hand that held the flashlight to support the hand that held his gun, as he searched the dark corners of the sewer; waiting for John to come down the ladder. It took a while, but they finally tracked down the shapeshifters home base; some where down in this section of the sewers. When John finally came down the final rings of the ladder; they started to make their way through the slimy tunnels.

They were both silent as they worked their way through; Dean shining his beam of light along the ground. The nineteen year-old paused for a second as his light flashed off of something glossy. Dean wouldn't have really had paused because everything in the sewer was glossy aka slimy. But as Dean paused so did John and they both pointed their lights in the same direction. Dean gagged as he took in to pile of slime, shredded skin, hair and teeth.

"This is definitely it," John told his eldest son.

Dean just nodded as they continued on; they still had their guns raised even though they knew that the shifter was dead. Because as it turned out, the father of the girl who the shifter had impersonated, killed the shifter - while it was in his daughters appearance. It was just luck that the father had silver bullets in the gun. Dean shook his head; he couldn't believe that a father could kill his daughter like that - even if it wasn't really her but he didn't know that.

"Dad?" Dean called to his father up front.

"What is it, Dean?" John glanced back at him, but continued forward.

Dean paused for a second, but steeled himself before he lost his nerve. "Would you do what that guy did?"

"What?" John said, distracted.

"If me - or even Sammy, killed a whole bunch of people and then came after you, would you kill us?" Dean stopped as he said this, his gun slightly lowered. He shuddered at the very thought.

John froze in his tracks and slowly turned around to Dean. "Where is this coming from?"

"What that guy did-" Dean started, but John silenced him with a slice of his hand.

"I am not that guy, Dean." John told him, his voice hard. "I know you and I know Sam. I know that you would never go out and start killing and then come after me. And even if you did, I'd know it wasn't really you, just like it wasn't the real Jasmine Rhodes who killed those people."

"But her dad didn't know that, he killed his thirteen year-old daughter; thirteen years-old, dad!" Dean shook his head, his voice going rough with emotion.

"It wasn't her, Dean." John told him in a soothing manner, giving his sons shoulder a squeeze.

"But he didn't know that!" Dean shouted, his loud voice bounced of the curved walls and down the tunnel.

As the echo died away, everything was silent apart from Dean heavy breathing.

_"-llo?"_

"Did you hear that?" Dean asked, cocking his head in the direction he was sure he heard the noise come from. John opened his mouth but Dean shock his head, keeping the man from speaking. After a second, it came again.

_"-body there?"_

"This way!" Dean didn't even wait before he took off, rounding the corner.

"Dean!" John shouted after his son but didn't any other choice but to fallow.

Dean could hear John behind but only paid attention to the voice that was growing more clear and the closer he got the more he was able to tell. Like the very first thing he could was that it was a girls voice, small and hesitant - he could understand why; for all she knew, he was the shifter coming back from killing her father.

"_Whoever is there, you shouldn't be here; it'll kill you too_."

Dean couldn't believe that she was warning him away; even at the cost of her own life. The killing had started some two weeks ago and she had been down here that long with that _thing_. All the while it took her appearance and killed all of her friends, than saved the kid's father for last. And he still couldn't believe that Jasmine's dad would kill her. Dean had seen her photo and he could tell that she was probably just as sensitive and as intelligent as Sam and definitely no killer.

Dean finally slowed down as he neared a light source and knew he was close; having passed multiple other piles of shredded appearances. He held up his gun as he turned the last corner and took in the dead-end in seconds with his sharp emerald gaze.

The shapeshifter had chosen a dead-end in the sewer system; and the only word Dean had for it was, Nest. it had made this place it home of sorts; there were lit candles every-where, bathing the end-tunnel in a flickering blaze. The was a table with books, text's and photo's - research, Dean's mind supplied. Because Jasmine Rhodes wasn't just anyone's daughter, but the police chief of Khuru's daughter. The shifter wanted to do damage and it did. There was also a box that looked to be filled with uniforms and girls clothes. In the corner was a thin, dirty mattress. And on that mattress was thirteen year-old Jasmine Rhodes; with her hand bound tightly behind her back and secure to was looked like a ring that was attached to the floor.

She had on what looked like a pair of pajamas; a large t-shirt and track pants, her feet were bare and her brown long hair down and it was just a mess. Her skin was ghostly pale and caked with dirt and grime; like the sort of stuff that was on the tunnels walls, but on her skin and clothes and in her long hair. Her hazel brown eyes were big but it looked like she was trying to keep them open, but Dean could tell from the bruises under her eyes that she had been fighting it for quite some time.

And that was when the smell hit him; it was the smell of a normal dank sewer, but he could also smell newly staled urine, sweat, and what ever a little girl who hadn't showered for two weeks smelled like. Dean stared at her and she just stared right back. Dean tucked his gun in the back of his jeans as he moved towards Jasmine and pulled out his switched blade. He crouched behind her and started to saw the rope.

"You shouldn't have come here," Jasmine whispered to Dean. "It's too dangerous."

"It's dead," Dean reassured her; finally through with the rope that was attached to the ring on the floor, he started carefully on the rope binding her delicate hands.

"I know, but there still could be more," Jasmine reminded him.

Dean paused for a second as he heard this before he continued to saw. "How could you know?" he asked as he cut through the final strands.

Jasmine took her hands into her lap, wiggling her fingers to get the blood flowing before she turned to Dean. She looked Dean straight in the eye and said simply, "I felt it,"

Dean stood, cocked his head and furrowed his brows. "You felt it," he repeated unbelievingly as he stood.

Jasmine went to stand up too, but Dean picked her up princess style before she could. "I can walk myself, what-ever-your-name-is." she deadpanned. But they both knew that she had been down here for two week with next to none food.

"Dean," he told her. "But can't you just let me look like Prince Charming, would you?"

"Fine," Jasmine agreed reluctantly, though Dean could see she was trying not to smile as she snuggled closer to him. "I'm Jasmine, by the way." she informed him just in case.

Dean gave a chuckle as he started toward the exit; just as John appeared, slightly out of breath. He looked at Dean with Jasmine in his arms and gave his son an approving smile. "Take her to the car, Dean; I'll get rid of this stuff."

Dean gave him a nod and started to make he way back through the tunnels with a very exhausted Jasmine. Dean didn't know when but he started to hum some AC/DC under his breath, and to Jasmine, that was like a lullaby. Her tired eyes slipped closed and her head fell against Dean's shoulder; lulled to sleep by Dean throaty hum and the safeness she felt when in his arms.

Though he had to wake Jasmine up when they came to the ladder; Dean finally got her to the awaiting Impala. Gently, he put her in the back seat, only climbing in beside her as he turned the Impala on, along with the heat and the radio, wrapping a blanket around her. Before he put his own arm around her shoulder and pulled her close; she didn't pull away and pressed close, her head laid over his heart - she promptly fell asleep.

Finally, John emerged from the manhole and got into the drivers seat of the Impala; pulling away from the curb.

"Dad," Dean said almost instantly. "What are we gonna do?"

John glanced at Dean through the rearview mirror before glancing at the sleeping pre-teen in his arms. "The only thing we can do," he told Dean. "We take her with us."

"Are you sure we can do that?" Dean asked. "I know that we can't leave her here; she is "dead" after all, but when you say to take her with us - do you mean were gonna teach her how to hunt?"

"What else can we do Dean?" John asked. "I know she's only thirteen, bit if we just drop her off some where and she talks about what happened to her; their gonna stick her in the bin."

"Okay," Dean agreed. "But what if she doesn't want to say with us?"

John thought for a moment. "Than we'll just have to find her some place that isn't Khuru and she has to promise not to talk about what happened - at least if she stays with us, she can talk about it and learn how defend herself against something like this from happening to her again."

"What about Sammy?" Dean asked; rubbing Jasmine's arm soothingly when she shifted in her sleep.

John let out a long sigh and was silent for what felt to Dean was a very long moment before he finally answered; though this time, he didn't sound so sure of himself. And Dean had to agree; sure, Sammy was awesome in his own way - very smart, curious, and it made Dean happy when he laughed, smiled, and could make friends easily. But the thing about Sam was the fact that, Sam had allot of anger inside. That was the very reason that he and John fought over the stupidest things. In short - Sam was a very hot head.

"It might be good for Sam to be around someone his own age; especially when he's stuck in the motel room all day when we're hunting or when he's at school. Or he's going to be a total hot head and either yell allot or complain. But I think it would be good to have a girl round; don't you, Dean?"

Dean looked down at the sleeping girl in his arms and agreed readily. The instant he and Jasmine had made eye contact he knew; he didn't know how he knew, he just knew. Dean didn't know what it was that he knew that it was right that she was with them - even if it meant that what had happened to her had happened. And that was the instant he heard her unique snort-snore. He looked up and locked eyes with his father through the rearview mirror, a huge grin on his face. Even if Sam didn't like her, Dean knew in that second, he would love this girl till the day he died - if not longer.

**note: I hoped you liked it! **


	2. Meet and Greet

**John Winchester: Early 30's (34)**

**Dean Winchester: 18 years-old**

**Sam Winchester: 14 years-old**

**Jasmine Rhodes: 13 years-old.**

**Puzzle Piece:**

**MEET AND GREET**

Dean carefully disengaged himself from the sleeping Jasmine's clutches, but as soon as Dean stood up straight just outside of the Impala's door, she was wide awake. She looked around the dark space of the car for a moment, the only light from the motel sign, before she spotted Dean. John had already gotten out and unlocked the room door.

Jasmine shouldered off the blanket and slid across the seat towards Dean; who, by the looks of it, had been waiting for her. Dean held out his arms for her, but Jasmine shook her head and slid out onto the pavement. She could feel the pebbles and dirt against the sensitive flesh of her bare feet. Instead she grasped Dean's hand in her own and gave him a small smile.

"If I let you be Prince Charming again; it may go to your head." she told him like they were old friends, but the truth was they had barely said ten sentences to each other.

Dean let out a hearty laugh in surprise; this girl certainly had spunk! Dean had a huge grin on his face as he walked Jasmine to the open room door. When they hunted, they never stayed in a place for to long, so they always rented a motel room with two beds. John got his own, while Dean and Sam usually shared or Dean would end up sleeping on the couch that came with the room.

Even though it was past midnight, Dean knew that Sam would be awake despite the hour. He always was when ever Dean and John went on a hunt. But Dean wished that this was one night that he was fast asleep in his bed, so that Dean and John didn't have to confront Sam's attitude. And he knew that Sam was going to have an attitude because he could hear John's hushed voice as he reprimanded his youngest son.

Sam lost the attitude, mostly, as Jasmine stepped into the room and Dean shut the room door. Jasmine pressed closer to Dean, still holding his hand as she looked at nervously at Sam. She gave the fourteen year-old a shy smile and held out her hand. "Hi, I'm Jasmine."

Dean watched closely as Sam smoothed his expression out, but he could still see this brown eyes burn with anger. But he stood up from where he sat on the edge of his bed and shook Jasmine's hand grudgingly. "Sam," was all he said before sitting back on the bed.

Dean saw Jasmine smile sadly at Sam as she took her hand back, but when she looked at Dean, she had on a grin.

Dean smiled back even though he could feel Sam's glare. "Okay, so the bathroom is over there," Dean pointed to the open room. "Have a shower and get cleaned up; I'll put some clothes on the toilet for you to wear. And when you done you can have something to eat."

"Okay," Jasmine nodded and on pure impulse, wrapped her arms around Dean's waste and gave him a hug. "And thanks for finding me, Dean."

Dean rubbed her back. "Sure thing, Jaz." he smiled as she retreated into the bathroom and closed the door.

Dean glanced back at John who was sitting at the little corner table drinking coffee as he heard the spray of the shower, and sat on the bed beside Sam's. Sam cleared his throat as Dean started to untie his boots. Dean glanced at his little brother, who in turn glared.

"What's wrong with you?" Dean finally asked sick of Sam's selfish mood. John raised his eyebrows and so did Sam; neither having heard Dean use that tone of voice. "Quit looking so surprised, Sam. How can you be as selfish as to yell at dad for bringing that girl here after all that's happened to her? She can't go home because she's "dead", and all you can think about is yourself!" Dean whispered quietly to his brother, as he glanced at the closed bathroom door.

Sam didn't meet his eyes but he crossed his arms over his chest and his usually friendly brown eyes were burning.

"Her father just killed her and you can't even be nice long enough to tell her your name properly." Dean finished, digging in his duffle bag for a shirt and pajama pants

Sam stuck his chin out stubbornly. "She looks pretty alive to me." he said in a snobby tone.

"Her father killed the shapeshifter that looked like her, Sam!" Dean threw the t-shirt down on the bed more roughly than was really necessary; but Sam was really getting on his nerves. Dean looked up into Sam's eyes, his gaze sharp and serious. "You're always complaining that me and dad don't treat you more like an adult, yet here you are; acting like a five year old who has to share his toys." he shook his head in disappointment at Sam as he turned toward the bathroom.

John had watched the scene from behind his coffee mug and to say that he was surprised to say the least. He had never in all his life since the day Dean was born, seen his son raise his voice like that at any human before. Especially not him and definitely not Sam; so yes, the surprise had kept him silent. But even if he had wanted to interrupt he wouldn't; Sam's attitude was selfish - he just had that attitude that he was better than other people and he should always get his way; and when he didn't, he had a fit. But what worried John wasn't that fact that Dean had raised his voice at Sam, but the fact that Dean was already attached it seemed, to Jasmine.

The second Dean came out from the bathroom he headed for the small kitchen that consisted of a small counter, old fridge and stove, there was a sink and a microwave. Dean took two slices of bread, smeared on some mustard, slapped on a couple of slices off ham from the fridge as well as a slice of processed cheese.

Just as Dean finished cutting it in half, Jasmine came out of the steaming bathroom. Her skin was finally clean but it was still pale; hell, anyone's would after spending two weeks in a dark sewer. Her hair was washed and combed, the darks locks stopping just past her shoulders. Dean's t-shirt looked like an extra-large on her narrow shoulders, coming down to almost her knee's and the short sleeves just above her elbows. The blue plaid pants were folded multiple times at the legs and she had tied the string so that they wouldn't fall down.

Jasmine felt awkward as she stood in the bathroom door of a motel room with three strangers after she had been kidnapped by a monster; something that couldn't even be real - something she had only been in movies and shows, read in books. But she didn't want to think of that now, or even ever for that matter.

"Jasmine," Dean pulled her from her thoughts. He set the plate with the sandwich on the table across from John. "Come and eat something."

Jasmine gave Dean a smile and started towards the table. She glanced at Sam from the corner of her eye; his back was to her from where he sat on the bed, his shoulders were stiff and his head was down. Though Jasmine couldn't see his front, she could tell that Sam's hands were fisted. Dean pulled the chair out like a gentlemen and pushed it in as she sat down. As Jasmine settled, Dean bowed with a sweep of his arms.

"My lady," he said formally like a butler would.

Jasmine could help the giggle and blush that marred her pale face; and John and Dean couldn't help but smile at her reaction, Sam didn't. The first bite of the sandwich that Dean made was . . . the only thing that Jasmine could think of was Holy Crap! Jasmine was never a big fan of ham, but this was the best thing she had ever tasted in her life. It didn't matter for the fact that she hadn't eaten anything in basically two weeks because she just wanted to live in this sandwich when she was finished, she slumped in her chair with relief; in her eyes, this seemed like the best day in her whole life.

John wished to God that he didn't have to be the guy to ruin her moment of contentment; but it didn't matter what he wanted because this was the girls future they were talking about. "Jasmine," he said.

She looked up at John and seeing the seriousness in his expression; straightened in her chair.

"I know you tired but we have to talk about this, it's important." John started and Jasmine nodded. "You have to know that what happened to you wasn't normal."

"You don't have to say that again." Jasmine told the older man; clutching her hands in her lap she glanced at Dean who was sitting in the third chair between her and John. Dean gave her a reassuring smile.

John continued. "There are things out there in the world that aren't normal; they hurt innocent people. And our job is to get rid of those monsters and save the people that they had hurt."

"Like you did with me," Jasmine filled in.

"Like we did with you," John agreed. "But in your case, the results weren't normal. The monster that attacked you was called a shapeshifter, and because it took your appearance; people think that you killed all of those people."

"But I didn't!" Jasmine defended herself, looking between John and Dean.

"We know," Dean reassured her, giving her clutched hands a squeeze. Jasmine gave a sigh of relief, but her heart squeezed when Dean continued. "But nobody outside this room does."

"But . . ." she tried to protest, but it was weak. "Why can't you just tell them or I can show them myself."

But John was already shaking his head sadly. "If we told them, they would asked questions and we would get arrested; it's just to messy. And would you really want to know about the things out there?"

Jasmine shook her head sadly in answer; no one would want to know what was really out there, they liked things just the way they were - where only humans would do damage like what had happened to her. "But where does that leave me? You did kill the shapeshifter, right?"

"It is dead," John confirmed. "But we weren't the one who killed it."

Jasmine looked at him confused. "Than did someone else like you kill it?"

John was silent, so Dean took over. "Jasmine, when we were in the sewer and I told you the shifter was dead, you said that you knew, that you felt it. Did anything else happen?" Dean glanced at John and saw the surprised expression and Sam had turned his head slightly towards them to listen. But he kept his eyes on Jasmine.

Jasmine shook her head. "When you said it died, I felt this really sharp pain in my head; like a connection being severed. When it took my appearance, I could feel these tendrils picking through my mind and it gave me massive headaches; so when it died, so did the pain. But that was all I felt. Other than that, it would come down every other night, I guess. To give me water and to tell me who it was going to kill." she finished, looking at Dean questionably.

"The night it was killed," Dean told her reluctantly. "It went after your dad." Jasmine gasped and put a hand over her mouth and felt tears collect in her eyes. "No, your dads fine!" Dean was quick to reassure. Jasmine let out a breath and blinked away the tears that had threatened to overcome her.

"But?" she could hear it unspoken.

"But, he's the one who killed the shifter." John finished for his son.

"What you really mean is that he killed ME." Jasmine looked him in the eye, her expression hard.

"Yes, that's what I mean." John gave a sad nod.

"That's why I can't go back." she concluded. "So what are you going to do to me?"

"You have two options;" John told her. "One, we can drop you off some where, but no where in Khuru. Or two, you can stay with us."

Dean saw Jasmine and Sam sit straight at the last one, and for two very different reasons. Jasmine in surprise and Sam in shock.

"If I stayed with you, would I do what you do?" Jasmine asked. "I can save people from what had happened to me from happening to them?"

John nodded.

"Then I would like to stay." Jasmine said without hesitation.

John nodded again and sighed with relief; finally glad that that was over and done with. "We're heading out tomorrow," he informed everyone in the room. He looked at Jasmine, "We'll try to find you some clothes as soon as possible," Jasmine nodded and gave the grizzled man a warm smile. "I'm John, by the way." he stuck out his hand and she shook it firmly. "That couch is a pull out?" John asked Dean.

"I think so," Dean nodded.

"Okay, you can share with Jasmine." John told and neither argued. "Sam, get back in bed." he ordered his youngest son. Sam did so without a word.

"Hop in," Dean lifted the blanket up from the pull out couch and gestured invitingly.

Jasmine didn't say anything and climbed right in; because the prospect of an bed - any bed, was so inviting. The most sleep she had ever had was the half hour in the Impala, and it wasn't because of the fact that she had been rescued; it was because she felt so at ease curled up at Dean's side. She lay wide awake as Dean was in the bathroom and watched with some interest as John laid a line of salt in front of the door and both windows, and wondered what monster that would protect them against.

Her mind didn't wander to far on the subject; because the toilet flushed and the tap was turned a few seconds before Dean came out of the bathroom wearing a t-shirt and his boxer shorts. Now, being a thirteen year-old girl she would have had a full body blush at sleeping next to such a hunk; but as she watched him walk over to the pull out couch, she felt nothing of the such. Within the thirty seconds that they had talked in the tunnel, they had actually become friends, and it only grew on the trust that she had shown him and the kindness he had shown her in turn. Jasmine gave Dean a smile as he crawled under the blanket with her and flopped down with a sigh. He gave her a smile in return as she wiggle a little closer, before settling down.

Dean had shared his bed with many; John and Sam for instance, being in the hunting business, you tended to be close to those you hunted with. And, since the age of sixteen, many woman. Some his own age and more older; for a different persuasion that just sleeping. But for some reason, Jasmine was different. Dean didn't want to sleep with her like that; she was thirteen for Christ sakes. But for some reason he just felt closer to Jasmine than even Sammy. It's not like Dean didn't love Sam with all of his might, that was his baby brother after all. But Jasmine was just . . . Different, was all Dean could think to describe her.

In each others presence, Jasmine and Dean fell asleep faster than they ever have before.


	3. Home Base

**Bobby Singer: Early 30's (34)**

**John Winchester: Early 30's (34)**

**Dean Winchester: 18 years-old**

**Sam Winchester: 14 years-old**

**Jasmine Rhodes: 13 years-old.**

**Puzzle Piece:**

**HOME BASE**

Having wanted to get out of Khuru, Ohio John had everyone up and packed by 6:30 a.m, and out the door by seven. John didn't want to take the risk of stopping for any food at the diner. And the only safe place that John could think of to get everything sorted out was at Bobby Singer's place.

John pulled the Impala to the curb outside of the entrance of Singer's Salvage. He turned around to face Dean who was sitting in the back seat with Jasmine, who was still wearing his clothes but had on a pair of shoes that Sam had grudgingly given up. "Me and Sam are gonna get out here," he told Dean, giving Jasmine a glance. "I want you to go and get Jasmine some clothes." John left the car idling as he opened his door to get out. Sam stayed where he was in the front seat, only moving when John gave a him a sharp look.

"Okay," Dean nodded getting out of the back seat with Jasmine fallowing suit.

John handed Dean a few bills from his wallet as Sam got their bags from the trunk. "You know what to get?" John asked Dean through the window as his eldest son settled into the drivers seat.

"Yes, dad." Dean rolled his eyes at his dad and John cuffed him in the back of the head.

John glanced past Dean and gave Jasmine a nod, who in turn gave him a sweet smile. John would never admit it; but the girl was already growing on him. Dean gave a manly wave at Sam before he pulled from the curb and back to the road.

Jasmine sat back in the seat, humming along with the AC/DC that blasted through the radio. It was a twenty minute drive to the nearest clothes store and Jasmine would be glad to wear some clothes that fit - and some underwear.

The store was classic for a town this size and Jasmine didn't waste any time. She made a b-line to the girls section and took the five seconds that were needed to check the size. When John had asked Dean if he knew what to get, Jasmine knew that they were supposed to get durable clothes - hunting was a messy business after all.

She ignored the stares as she grabbed three pairs of jeans and a pair of track pants. And instead of taking girls shirts, she stowed into the boys section and grabbed four small plan shirts; much the same as Dean's. Next, she grabbed a thing of socks and underwear, and zip-up sweater and a sports bra; she was thirteen after all, and lastly a pair of sneakers.

She had moved so fast that Dean had to hurry to keep up. He had made it to the counter just as Jasmine was setting all of her stuff down. Dean looked with wide eyes at the huge pile of clothing, not really sure if he had enough money to pay for such a bundle. But Jasmine gave him a reassuring smile; she had done the math. Any other time it probably would have cost a lot, but today, there was a sale - just their luck, if she might say so herself. Dean gave a sigh of relief when he was handed the receipt; he paid three bills as Jasmine grabbed the bags.

Dean stopped by the diner and grabbed a burger for everyone before they headed back to the Singer's Salvage.

Jasmine had never seen a salvage yard in real life; only in the movies. It was a mass grave for cars; and in her opinion - it was awesome! In Khuru, they didn't have a salvage yard, but they did have a tire pile. It did sound exciting, but Jasmine and her best friend Ted Mosby had built a fort. And it wasn't a crappy fort because when Ted grew up, he wanted to be an architect. Jasmine gave an inner sigh of relief; three weeks before the whole shapeshifter killing spree, Ted had moved. Yes, the departing had been sad; but it had really been a blessing in disguise. See, Ted's parent's were architect and they traveled; so where Ted was going there would be no TV and they had only one satellite phone. Ted would have no way of knowing what had happened, but Jasmine knew that her father would try to keep the fact that "she" had killed all of those people.

Jasmine turned to Dean. "Do you have a cell?"

Dean glanced at her as he parked the Impala in front of Bobby's house. "Yes . . ." Dean answered cautiously.

Jasmine cocked her head. "Can I use it . . .?"

"I suppose you could, if you tell who you going to call." he told her.

"My friend Ted," Jasmine told him, and continued because she had an idea where this was going. "Ted moved away a month ago; and where he is, he has no idea what happened in Khuru."

"Okay," Dean finally consented, handing her his cell phone. "But you can't tell him what happened."

"I know," Jasmine sighed. "I'm just going to make sure he doesn't call my dad; so can I give him this number?" she asked.

Dean thought about it for a moment; he didn't really see any harm in giving this Ted his cell number - especially if Jasmine can convince him not to call her dad's number. He nodded to her. Jasmine gave him a smile in thanks and started to dial the number.

_"Hello?" came the familiar voice of Mrs. Mosby after a few rings._

"Mrs. Mosby, hi, it's Jasmine Rhodes."

_"Oh, little Jasmine; how are you dear?"_

"I'm very good, thank-you, Mrs. Mosby. And how are you?"

_"Oh, why thank-you I'm just dandy, dear. Would you like to speak with Ted?"_

"That would be great, Mrs. Mosby."

_"Hold on a second and I'll get him."_

"Okay,"

_"Jasmine? Oh my God; I can't believe that I haven't even called you in two months!"_

"It's okay, Ted; you wouldn't have been able to reach me anyway - my old number doesn't work anymore. So I'm gonna give you a new one to catch me, 'kay?"

_"Right,"_

"Okay, so its 555-1368. You got it?"

_"Got it,"_

"So, how's the knew place?"

_"It's awesome! I think we're probably gonna be here for at least five more years."_

"Five? How can you be sure you'll be there that long?"

_"That's how long dad paid for the place; and you know he's not gonna waste a penny."_

"I'll miss you, Ted. And make sure you call, 'kay."

_"Of course I will, Jazzy. I'll talk to you later; talking on the phone cost's like, a zillion dollars."_

"Okay, I'll talk to you later, Mr. BFF."

_"Yes, you will, Ms. BFF."_

Jasmine hung up with a sad sigh; and handed Dean back his cell. She let her head thump on the back of the seat and breathed deep and slow; after all that had happened to her in the last two weeks, she had never once, cried; but talking to Ted made her want to burst into tears.

"Hey," Dean said in a soft voice, resting his hand on her knee. "You okay?"

Jasmine gave a long sniff before she raised her head and nodded. "Yeah," she looked at Dean apologetically. "Sorry, I don't mean to get all girly on you. It's just . . ." she trailed off; noting wanting to burden Dean with her issues.

"It's just . . .?" Dean prompted anyway.

"I was fine with had happened with my dad; he was always a butthead anyway, so I not really gonna miss him. And it shows how much he cared when he shot "me". But Ted . . . Ted's my Mr. BFF, you know?"

"I don't know," Dean told her truthfully. "I've never actually had a best friend before. But I do get what you mean."

Jasmine smiled gratefully at him. "I can be your best friend, if you want?"

"Awesome,"

The house looked old; not like those 19th century historical houses. No, it was just old looking, like one of those houses in a run down part of town. It even had hubcaps nailed randomly to the outside walls. The porch steps creaked from the combined weight of both Jasmine and Dean; their arms full of food and drinks.

Dean had to shuffle his arm load to open the screen door and he was barely even able to do that. He yanked it open and stuck his boot clad foot in the door frame to keep the door from slamming closed. He had his lips pressed together as he scowled and Jasmine couldn't help but laugh.

"You could help me, You know." Dean scowled at her over his shoulder.

This cause Jasmine to laugh louder; almost dropping her load of food in the process.

"It not so fun is it?" Dean mocked.

"No, I still think is fun!" Jasmine said, finally helping Dean with the screen door.

Dean just rolled his eyes as he walked into the house that was so familiar to him, and headed straight to the kitchen. Jasmine fallowed him like a duckling; the screen door slamming behind her.

"How many time do I have to tell you not to slam the damn door, boy!" a gruff voice yelled from another room; Jasmine could hear that the man tried to put some heat into it, but she could tell he was smiling.

Dean had a huge grin as he set the food on the table. "How many times do I have to tell you to be nice, you have company!" he hollered back, giving Jasmine a wicked smile.

Jasmine gave a nervous on in return as she heard stomping step coming towards them. She semi inserted herself halfway behind Dean; reluctantly admitting that she was slightly nervous at meeting this man. She wasn't all that nervous went she met Dean and John; she didn't have time to, she was to relieved that she was out of the dump of a sewer. She wasn't nervous about Sam because he was only a year older and he was Dean's little brother. But the man who owned this house and salvage yard was a total and complete stranger. Though the way that Dean seemed so at ease meant that this man either knew about hunters or was a hunter himself.

Jasmine blinked away those though as the man himself entered the kitchen. Dean step forward to meet him and the both embraced; giving each other manly hearty slaps on the back the process. The stepped back from each other, the man gave Dean's shoulder a squeeze as he asked, "How have you been, boy?"

"I'm great, Bobby, and I want you to meet someone." Dean said, turning to Jasmine who was still behind him. He steered her around to Bobby by the shoulders. He kept his hand there as he introduced the two. "Bobby, this is Jasmine. Jasmine, meet Bobby."

Jasmine was about to raise her hand for a shake, like she had done with Sam. But what Bobby said next made her change her mind.

"Balls," Bobby breathed out, looking down at Jasmine who was still in Dean's to big pajamas. "John told me but I couldn't really believe him." he looked at Dean this time. "Your daddy's done some crazy things, Dean, and this one is way up there." he sighed, shock his head before removing the cap on his head and running his fingers through his red hair. "I hate to say this, girl, but you may have made the biggest mistake in your life."

Jasmine stepped back and felt reassured by the solid mass of Dean behind her. She looked Bobby straight in the eye, her chin stuck out. "I don't think that I made a mistake, Mr. Singer. I'm going to be a hunter, maybe even one of the best out there. And I am going to hunt down any and all monsters so they can't hurt anyone else any more."

"That's some set of balls you have there," Bobby commented raised his eyebrows with some surprise.

"There huge!" Dean agreed, giving Jasmine's shoulders a squeeze. Jasmine looked up at him with a toothy smile.

Bobby had three bedrooms, not including his own. And there were four of them, but there was a simple fix. John would get the bedroom with the single bed. Dean and Sam would share the bedroom with the two twin beds and Jasmine would take the other single bed in the last spare bedroom. John's was at the end of the hall, while Jasmine's was across from Dean and Sam's.

Dean lay in bed wide awake; Sam breathing evenly in sleep beside him. Dean didn't understand why he couldn't fall asleep; it wasn't like Bobby's house was strange or anything, quite the opposite; Bobby's was like a second home of sorts. And these beds were more comfortable then the pull out couch in the motel room. He had slept just fine in the motel the other night, Jasmine tucked in safely at his side.

Jasmine? Was that the reason why he couldn't sleep; because Jasmine was so far away - granted, she was in the room across the hall, but it didn't feel like it. Now he remembered how peacefully he had slept in that motel; the last time he slept that peacefully was when he was just four years-old - before all of this hunting business happened.

Dean sat up in his bed, causing the old spring box to creak. He froze as Sam shifted in his sleep before settling back down. Dean stood from the bed and slowing made his way to the closed door; careful not to make any noise as to wake Sam up. Dean opened the door and was in the process of closing it when it squeaked and he froze, watching Sam closely. When the fourteen year-old didn't move he closed it all the way.

Dean was in the process of turning the knob on Jasmine's door, when he realized what he was actually doing. Sneaking across the hall to a girls bedroom in the dead of night. He turned his back on her door and was going to go back to his own bed; but he was just so tired and wide awake at the same time. What if he went into her room - she'd probably be sleeping anyway, and just sleep on the floor. Then he'd just wake up early an sneak back into his own bed and no one would be the wiser. Mind made up, Dean slowly opened the door and crept into the dark room, closing the door behind him.

"Couldn't sleep either?" came a voice from the darkness.

Dean sucked in a surprised breath; almost peeing his pants in the process. "Jeez, Jasmine. Do you want me to pee all over the floor?" Dean threatened.

"Said the guy who creep across the hall," Jasmine laughed lightly.

Dean could just make her out in the faded light of the quarter moon outside; still in Dean's clothes, she sat on the covers with her knees up and her folded arms resting on her up raised knee's. She sat up straight and looked wide awake as he felt.

"It's not like that!" Dean defended.

Her white teeth gleamed in the moon light as she smiled. "I know, I can't sleep either and I think I figured out why." she slid from the bed and threw the covers back before turning to Dean. "Now, are you gonna get in or not?" she raised her brow brows in question.

"Don't rush me," Dean complained as he climbed into the bed.

He laid on his side and held the blanket up as Jasmine climbed in after him. It was a tight fit, but they managed; Dean spooning Jasmine, with an arm around her stomach so she wouldn't fall off the bed. The second they closed their eyes; they stayed that way till morning.


	4. First of Many

**Three Years Later:**

**John Winchester: Late 30's**

**Dean Winchester: 21 years-old**

**Sam Winchester: 17 years-old**

**Jasmine Rhodes: 16 years-old**

**Puzzle Piece:**

**THE FIRST OF MANY**

"Dean!" Jasmine screamed as the ghost of Harry Rainer tossed Dean across the grave yard like he was a bag of feathers. As Dean smacked into a head stone with a sickening force, the shot gun flew from his hands; he lay against the head stone unmoving.

Jasmine stared at him in horror; did he break his neck? He was to far away to see whether or not he was breathing and than the ghost of Harry Rainer turned towards her. His body flickered and flashed, and instead of actually walking towards her, he would just appear a little closer in a flash. His grave was already dug and the dark wood of his coffin gleamed in the moon light. He was at least 30 feet away and gaining and Jasmine was just frozen to the spot.

This was her first hunt for God's sake, and doing a haunting was supposed to be the simplest. You find out who the ghost is, find his grave and dig it up, and than poor salt and lighter fluid on the bones before lighting it on fire. And that was it. It had been three years since she joined the Winchester's, so three years of training under Dean and John's wings. But you can never really tell how one was going to react until their actually put in the field. And she was totally sucking right now!

Rainer was 20 feet away now and Dean was unconscious or . . . Dead. On his ghostly face, his lips were curved and it wasn't a nice smile either. No, it was the smile some one got when they were stocking prey - and Jasmine was his prey. Rainer had no interest in men like Dean, no, he liked girl's like Jasmine. And that fact drew her out of her freeze.

With a yell of anger and fear, she threw the shovel in her hands at his. The small diamond shaped shovel spun as it sliced through the air; she didn't wait to see if it hit him, but if it did the iron in the shovel would stall him for at least 40 seconds. She dove for the duffel that was open beside the fully dug grave; her hands were solid with adrenaline as she grabbed the container of salt and lighter fluid. She held those in one hand as she grabbed the loaded shot gun that lay beside the duffle Rainer shimmered back into "life" in front of her. She point the shot gun at him and pulled the trigger. The rock salt cap ripped through his middle and he instantly disappeared; but shooting a shot gun with one hand had it disadvantages. The recoil was powerful, powerful enough to knock her backwards, backwards into the fully dug grave of Harry Rainer.

Jasmine landed painfully on her back, her back arched to compensate for the arc of Rainer's coffin. The grave had been dug, but Jasmine hadn't been able to open the lid before Rainer flung Dean 40 feet. She didn't have time to think about the pain or the damage because Rainer appeared again, this time at the edge of his grave, looking down at Jasmine with that same predatory smile. Where the hell were Sam and John when you needed them?

Jasmine stared up at him with wide eyes and he stared back with that smile. When she fell, she had lost her grip on the slat and lighter fluid, but from the corner of her eye she could see that the gun was still on the lid of the coffin; barely ten inches away. Rainer looked content with just looking at her for the moment; the view must have been good. Her back arched from the coffin, causing her navel to show and her boobs to pop more in her tank top. Her tan smooth skin covered in sweat the glistened in the moon light. Her brown eyes big and her dark hair splayed around her head like a lions main. There was no denying the simple fact that Harry Rainer was good looking guy; but he was a monster than and he was a monster now.

Jasmine used his distraction to inch her hand toward the butt of the gun. She got a grip just as Rainer slowly licked his lips as his eyes trailed from her boobs to her exposed navel. in one swift movement she swung the shot gun up and gave it a quick pump before fired. Rainer once again disappeared with a hole through his middle and Jasmine took this 40 seconds to roll off the coffin and grab the crowbar that lay in the dirt at the side. She jammed it in the seal between the lid and the body of the coffin, and with all of her might, she yanked it upward. Something cracked but the lid didn't burst open so she yanked again; this time with enough force to break the lids seal.

Just as she pulled the crowbar free, Rainer appeared in the grave with her, standing on the closed coffin. But Jasmine had been counting in her head, had been ready for it, she swung the crowbar at him like a bat. And because of the iron in the crow bar, he dissipated again. She had enough time though to see the anger and heat in his eyes. Wasting no time, Jasmine flung the coffin lid opened and gagged as the smell of decomposing flesh over whelmed her. Rainer's body had been in the ground for only three months now, so he still had flesh and everything. Jasmine pushed really hard on the urge to empty her stomach on everything and grabbed the salt and lighter fluid from the dirt at her feet.

Quickly she covered his body with salt and the fluid; saving time she had lost gagging by using both hands. Jasmine had just dug a lighter out of her pocket when Rainer appeared again; he moved as fast as lighting. He grabbed her arm with enough force to bruise and threw from the grave; in her surprise, Jasmine gripped the lighter tight. She was luckier than Dean had been when Rainer threw her; her distance was a little farther than Dean's but the landing hurt just as much. She just missed a head stone and landed on the hard ground with force that she was she popped her shoulder. But as Jasmine rolled, she felt it go back into the socket. She rolled sorely onto her back and instead of seeing the night sky, she saw Rainer's face again.

"_Sssso pretty_," Rainer said; though it came out as more of a hiss.

Before Jasmine could make a move, Rainer's hand shot out, his fingers forward. His flickering hand landed over her heart and sunk in through her breast. It felt as if ice were spreading through out her heart with each pump and she couldn't move a muscle. The muscles in Rainer's arms bulged as he slowly squeezed - squeezed her heart. Jasmine's eyes were wide, staring straight ahead; seeing nothing and her body arched slightly with the pain, and a cracked groan skipped through her throat. Slowly, blue tendrils began to spread across her skin from her heart. The farther they spread, the more her tan skin became a sickly grey.

The night was turned brought for four seconds as Rainer suddenly burst into flames. He burned for a few seconds, his screech pierced the silent air - and than he was gone. The flickering light from his burning corpse caused the shadows to dance around.

Dean ran towards Jasmine, vaulting over head stones in the process. He skidded to Jasmine's body on his knees; his heart breaking at the sight that met his eyes. Jasmine lay still on the grave yards ground; her body flat and unmoving, her chest no longer rising or falling. Her eyes were still wide but stared sightless into the night sky, her mouth was slightly a-gap. The lighter still clutched in her hand. Her skin was a sickly grey and there were blue tendrils that emitted from her heart and were spread across her skin.

A broken sob ripped from his throat as tears flooded his emerald eyes; Dean had never in his life really cried, with tears flooding down his face and sobs ripped from his chest - he had never cried like that before, not even for his mother. He shoved his fist in his mouth to try and stop himself from screaming when Jasmine gasped and arched her back with the breath. She fell back to the ground coughing, the color creeping back into her skin as the tendrils retreated.

Dean was frozen as he looked at Jasmine; not really getting what had just happened. he was sure she was dead - her eyes, the color of her skin! Jasmine slowly sat up and rubbed the spot over her heart where Rainer hand been inside of her; around her heart, freezing, squeezing. Jasmine looked at Dean and took in his shell shocked expression, his wet face and uncomprehending eyes.

"Who died?" she asked, her voice coming out as a whisper of sorts.

Her voice seemed to shake Dean out of it and his eyes cleared. The next thing Jasmine knew, Dean was embracing her fiercely. Jasmine didn't fight it and hugged him back. She had been scared to death by the fact that when he hit that head stone that he might in fact be dead. How could a hunt go so wrong?

"I thought you were dead," Jasmine finally breathed out, pulling away some to looked at Dean.

He had loosed his grip on her just enough for that. "You were dead," Dean told her.

Jasmine looked into his emerald green eyes and in the fire from Rainer grave, could see that his pupils were dilated some and his eyes were slightly unfocussed. He definitely had a concussion. "You have a concussion," she told him. There was no way that she died; she would know, wouldn't she?

Dean shook his head though. "You were dead," he told her again. "For at least 15 seconds you were dead, Jaz." he choked back a sob and hugged Jasmine again, more tightly this time as he remembered what she had looked like laying there, so very still.

"It's okay," Jasmine soothed, rubbing his back. "You're okay, I'm okay and Rainer is dead." she whispered this over and over again to Dean as he had a break down.

It was scary. But it hadn't been when Dean was thrown across the grave yard, or having Rainer's hand around her heart. No, it was this right here. Dean, she had never seen him like this and she would doubt that he had ever had a freak out like this before either. In the hunting business you couldn't afford to freak out like this every time, if you did, you'd end up in the bin not to long after. Jasmine hugged Dean for as long as it took, rubbing his back, soothing him. Until finally, Dean loosened his death grip on Jasmine, but didn't let go as he breathed deep, calming breaths.

"You can't tell Dad or Sam," Dean said staring her in the eye.

"You know me and Sam never were on speaking terms and you know how hard it is to talk with John." she gave him a reassuring smile. "Now," Jasmine said in a conversational tone. "I get to drive."

"What!" Dean exclaimed. "No way in hell are you driving!"

"Oh, I definitely am as a matter of fact; because a certain someone has a concussion." she said smugly, getting up and brushed the dirt from her clothes, which served to spread it around some more. Before she gave Dean a hand up; he was less dirty. He crossed his arms and pouted at. She would never admit it to Dean; but damn, he could pull off the puppy-dog eyes!

* * *

><p>"Thank God!" Dean breathed out in relief as he stumbled out of the rental car.<p>

Jasmine opened her mouth and gave him a mock hurt expression, before she grinned at him. "I'm only sixteen, you know."

"That's no excuse," Dean returned as he jimmied the key in the motel room their hotel room.

Now that there were four of them, they had to buy two rooms. John and Sam shared one, so that left Dean and Jasmine to share one. But that was cool with them, for some reason they tended to sleep way better when they were nearer to each other. At first they found it very weird, but it's been three years now and it just seems normal.

"I wouldn't drive so badly if you'd let me once in a while," she smirked as she closed the door behind him.

"I'd let you drive once in a while if you any good,"

Jasmine snorted. "You do know that that doesn't make any sense, don't you?"

"As soon as it left my mouth," Dean sighed, scrubbing a hand through his hair. He winced as he touched the tender spot on the back of his head.

"Take a shower," Jasmine told him. "It should help with the head ache."

Dean looked at he for a moment before he turned to the bathroom. Jasmine sat at the foot of the bed that was closest to bathroom, heavily. Before she fell back onto the bed and closed her eyes; she couldn't stop thinking about what Dean had said. Did she really die? Absently she rubbed the spot over her heart and could swear that its beat faltered. She shook her head; there was noting wrong with and that was that. She was just a little freaked, was all; it had been her very first hunt, after all.

What freaked her the most was that when Rainer was squeezing her heart; she saw things. Saw things that she didn't do, but what Rainer did. All the people he raped and killed when he was a human and the ones he did when he was a ghost. She shook he memories away; but kept rubbing the spot over her heart as if that spot were sore. She guessed that's what happened when a ghost reaches inside you and grips your heart.

The soreness went away the second they left town.


	5. Choices and Decisions

**Two Years Later:**

**John Winchester: Late 30's (36)**

**Dean Winchester: 23 years-old**

**Sam Winchester: 19 years-old**

**Jasmine Rhodes: 18 years-old**

**Puzzle Piece:**

**CHOICE'S AND DECISION'S **

Jasmine was coming back for the soda machine down the walk; carrying three coke's and a diet Pepsi. They had just finished another hunt, this time a vampire or should she say vampires. They had found a whole nest full of them, at least eight of them. But it was easily taken care of with some arrows dipped in dead mans blood and a simple machete. But, it was actually harder than it sounded. Vampires were fast, and when their pissed their even faster. But they managed to get them all without severe injury.

As Jasmine neared their room she heard voices, raised voices. But she ignored them because she knew that they weren't coming from the Winchester room. But when she had stopped at the door, she knew she had been wrong. It was the Winchester's who were arguing - John and Sam were arguing to be more precise, Dean was silent. Going by the tone, Jasmine knew that this was a family thing. She may have been with the Winchester's constantly for five years now, but she wasn't family; by association but not by blood.

So instead of walking in, she sat on the hood of the car. Setting the coke's down on the pavement, she cracked open her Pepsi and waited. Though she could hear the argument as clear as if she were in the room with them.

**John:** "_You're not going any where, Sam_!"

**Sam:** "_Yes, I am! I'm not a kid any more, Dad_!"

**John:** "_Yes, You are! You're my kid and you'll do as you're told_!"

**Sam:** "_If I'm your kid, than why have you never treated me that way_?"

**John:** "_I did treat you like a kid; you were just too selfish to see it_!"

**Sam:** "_Right! Like giving me a gun when I told you that I was afraid of the dark_!"

**John:** "_You should be; you know what's out there, Sam_!"

**Sam:** "_Yeah! I do! No thanks to you_!"

**John:** "_Would you rather be a helpless civilian_?"

**Sam:** "_As a matter of fact, I would! At least than this family might be the least bit happy_!"

**John:** "_And there's that selfishness again! If there weren't hunter's like use, do you know how many people would be dead right now_?"

**Sam:** "_I'm so sorry if I don't want to be miserable all of my life_!"

**John:** "_I told you, you're not going any where; that's an order_!"

**Sam:** "_See! You don't give your children orders; we're not your soldiers, Dad_!"

**John:** "_You'll do as I tell you_!"

**Sam:** "_Not any more, I don't! Legally I'm an adult, and I don't have to listen to you_!"

**John:** "_I'm your father and you do_!"

**Sam:** "_I've been accepted to Harvard and I'm going! I thought that I'd give you one more year to see if throwing away my life would be worth it, and let me tell you it wasn't in the least!_"

There was some movement and shuffling as Jasmine assumed Sam was throwing clothes in his duffle bag. The door knob jiggle as some one griped it tightly and jasmine straightened, setting her open Pepsi on the walk with the others.

**John:** "_You walk out that door, you don't ever come back_!"

Sam didn't say anything; him opening the door was all that was needed. He step out from the room and slammed the door hard enough to shake the door frame as well as the windows glass a few rooms away. In his red hot anger he didn't see Jasmine and started off down that walk at an angry pace. Jasmine looked between the closed door and the retreating form of Sam Winchester. It took her a moment to decided and ran after Sam, who was heading towards the bus station down the a block over.

"Sam," she called.

Sam either didn't hear her or he did and kept walking.

"_Sam_!" she called louder and this time he stopped, his hands fisting.

He didn't turn around, didn't answer her, just stood in place as Jasmine caught up and ran to his front. She panted slightly as she looked up at him, his face drawn tight with anger.

"Sam," she said again and he sighed.

"What do you want, Jasmine?" he sighed out in frustration.

"I . . ." she trailed off, not knowing what to really say.

"Spit it out," Sam growled, his teeth clenched. "I know you heard!"

Jasmine opened her mouth than shut, her eyes filled with shame as she averted her gaze. "I'm sorry!" she blurted. "But was it really that bad?"

Sam laughed in utter surprise. "Was being raised from a baby in shady motel rooms, bad? Was having a father who was drunk the first three years of my life, bad? Was having a father who was present but didn't have enough time to raise himself, bad? Was having Dean raise me when he was only four years old, bad? Was being raised into a life that I despise, bad? Was always being my dad's last priority, bad?" he sighed once more and ran a hand through his shaggy locks.

"I had no idea . . ." she trailed off, stumped.

"Of course you had no idea; it never happened to you that way. You wanted to be a hunter and dad wanted more soldiers; you were perfect! He barely had time for me and then a little girl who can't go home and wants to become a hunter, comes along and now all he can do was glare at me."

"No wonder you hate me." Jasmine breathed out; starting to hate herself from what Sam had just said. And now that it was pointed out to her; she could totally see what he was talking about. She just never really saw it because she was always glued to Dean's side.

"I had Dean, of course." Sam was saying. "But then when you came into the picture that was gone too."

"You should really hit me," Jasmine told him.

"What?" was all Sam could think to say.

"I've ruined your life, Sam! God, I'd kick me in the balls right now." Jasmine exclaimed.

Sam sighed. "I don't hate you and I'd never hit - and its not just because you're girl." he told her.

"Why not? I'll punch myself, if you want." she told him matter of fact-ly.

"This was never your fault, Jasmine. I never wanted to hunt in the first place; I always wanted to become a lawyer, you see. And now that I've been accepted to Harvard I have that chance. Plus the fact that had the guts to stand up to dad." he paused for a second before he continued. "I have to go; it would really suck if I missed the bus."

Jasmine nodded, biting her lip as she looked at Sam. Before she could stop herself, she threw her arms around Sam and gave him a hug. "I hope your dream comes true, Sam. I know you'd make a awesome lawyer." she told him before pulling away. She gave him a small smile. "Did you know that this was the most we'd ever talked in five year?"

"Yeah, weird." was all Sam could think to say; still not knowing what to feel about that hug. "I guess I'll go now," he said slowly, suddenly feeling awkward.

Jasmine stepped out of his way and Sam gave her a nod before he started once again to the bus station. Jasmine watched him go until he turned the corner and could see him no longer before she turned back towards the motel.

When she got back to the motel and in front of the door where the fight had bracken out; she saw that the drink she had set on the walk were gone. Either some one walked by and took them, or, Dean or John had come out and taken them. That was the moment that she noticed that the Impala was no longer in the space in front of what used to John and Sam's room, but was now just John's room. John or Dean must have taken the car, and jasmine knew that they were probably in a bar already.

Jasmine walked passed John's room and went to hers and Dean's that was next door. She knew that if John or Dean were still in that room that they probably wanted to be alone so she decided that she might as well not be in the way. Plus, the night was getting chilly and she was just wearing a t-shirt; so she quickly stuck her key in to lock. But as she turned the keys, the tumblers moved and the door locked. That must mean that Dean was already in there; she turned the key again and pushed the door open.

Jasmine didn't know what she expected to see; but this definitely wasn't it. Sam had been gone 20 minutes at the most; and here Dean was, with a girl in bed. Jasmine let out a silent squeak and quickly closed the door again - Dean was so intent on his task that he didn't even notice her. She ran down the walk and flew around the corner at the end of the long line of rooms. And leaned against the wall with her eyes closed.

She did not just witness was she thought she had just witnessed; there was no way she had just walked in on Dean having sex! She had been living with the guy for five years and not once had she seen him have sex, which was close to impossible because Dean, well Dean was one hot, juicy, hunk and every chick eyed him like a piece of meat. And on this day, the day that Sam walked away, she had to catch him having sex?

It sort of felt like she had just walked in on her parents having sex, yet she was turned on at the same time. Jasmine loved Dean not as a brother or as a lover or something, no; it was just unconditional love. But how could she not notice how hot he was? Jeez, she would have to be a moron not to. Jasmine bet that even straight guys thought he was hot, that how hot Dean Winchester was after all. But it was just so weird because she had never seen him in that type of situation. The "in the middle of having hot, naked, sweaty, hair, emotion sex" situation. Granted, Jasmine had only been in the room for about five seconds, but with her hunter eyes, she had seen every detail. And it was every detail that she couldn't seem to get out of her head.

They were on top of the bed covers. Dean was on the bottom and the girl was on top. But it was the bull riding kind of top, no, she was laying over his chest, her face buried in his neck. In that position it would seem that it would be that great; but you would think so if you heard the noise they were making. The way the girls face was tucked away, Jasmine could see Dean's face from the door way. His eyes were closed, his usually pale skin was filled with colour from exertion, his face was a mask of pure pleasure except for the sliver of something that Jasmine couldn't quite make out, his mouth was slightly a gap; his breaths coming in small puffs, mixed with moans and groans as he drew closer to his peak. And besides his face, Jasmine had glimpsed other things. Sure, she had seen his face before, as well as his chest, feet and legs. But what she had never seen was his thighs; smooth and built of muscle that bunched every time he he'd thrust. And, she was slightly embarrassed and turned on and freaked out by this. His balls and the base of his penis.

Jasmine wasn't sure if she'd ever get the image out of her head, or even if she really wanted to. She banged her head against the wall; wondering if this was worse or better than her walking in on him when he was master baiting. And then she recognized what that sliver of emotion had been; shame. Shame, because he never said a word during John and Sam whole fight, never once trying to stop Sam for leaving. But she knew Dean, and knew the reason why Dean hadn't spoken, even if he or Sam didn't. Dean knew for a fact that Sam hated hunting and love school, loved being around people; he was a social flower after all.


	6. The Drive

**Two Years Later:**

**Dean Winchester: 25 years-old**

**Sam Winchester: 21 years-old**

**Jasmine Rhodes: 20 years-old.**

**Puzzle Piece:**

**THE DRIVE**

Dean glanced sideways at the sleeping occupant in the passenger seat gave a loud snort-snore and couldn't help the quirk to his lips. Keeping one eye on the road and the other on the passenger, he carefully dug into his jean pocked to produce his cell phone. Flipping it open, he focused the camera setting; trying to hold it just perfect so he could get a clear shot. He got Jasmine's face in the little screen; she was slumped in the Impala's seat so that she was barely even on it, her head hung back against the back of the seat, her mouth was slack and drool running from the corner of her mouth, occasionally there was her unique snort-snore. Dean had never even known that it was possible until he met Jasmine Rhodes six years ago.

Dean was so focused on taking a picture of unappealing picture of a sleeping Jasmine that his foot let up on the gas, slowing the car down. Jasmine may have only been in the hunting game for six years in total; but she knew, even in her sleep, that if the Impala slowed from Dean's normal speed the was usually around a hundred, they were either at their destination or something was totally wrong. Dean cursed himself as he saw Jasmine freeze in her breathing and knew what he had done wrong - he snapped the picture quickly. Just as Jasmine squeezed her eyes, he had slipped his cell back in his pocket and turned back to the road. Pushing down on the gas pedal, Dean tried to keep his face blank.

Jasmine's eye snapped open, but she hadn't started to breathe yet. Her hazel brown eyes were clear and alert as they travelled from the car roof, to Dean. She let out a long as she sat up and wiped the drool from her face with the palm of her hand before rubbing it against her jeans. She looked out the car window and saw nothing but the lush scenery of blacktop and trees. Seeing as nothing was really wrong, she pushed herself up and turned her gaze back to Dean. Dean could feel her gaze, he found it really hard to suppress the laugh that wanted come out and play, so hard that the corner of his mouth twitched. Jasmine saw it though.

"What's up, Dean?" she said casually, keeping her eyes locked on Dean's face.

Dean gave her a glance before turning his gaze back to the road ahead of him. "Lot's of things, Jaz, lot of things." he said as simply and as casually as he possibly could.

"Name a few things," she said in a challenging tone.

"Okay," Dean grabbed on with a huge smirk as he glance at Jasmine, taking in her whole appearance in a split second. "Your hair," he laughed.

Jasmine didn't laughed, but she did sock him in arm. Dean made a mock "ow!" and rubbed the spot on his arm, as Jasmine glowered at him, running her fingers through her dark hair. She glowered at Dean for a second.

"No, you idiot!" Jasmine tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. "What's up in your pants?" she asked Dean bluntly.

"What!" Dean exclaimed, looking down then at Jasmine before going back to the road. "Jaz, I know we've known each other for a while now, but I'm in a committed relationship at the moment . . ." he trailed off, giving her a scandalous look before turning back to the road.

"That's not what I meant and you know it!" she tried to sound angry but couldn't help but laughing, slapping his arm. She smoothed out her expression at looked at him with her sharp gaze, "Let me see your cell, Dean."

"Why?" Dean asked, trying to stall; he couldn't believe that she had figured it out - was he that predictable? No, he reasoned, Jaz was a razor sharp and he knew that she saw that twitch and that fact that she was asleep and two and two together. But he was a Winchester and one of the things that Winchester's were known for was their bull-headedness. "What's wrong with your cell phone?"

"What's wrong with yours?" Jasmine might not have been a Winchester by blood, but she had lived with them for six years, and in Winchester years that was like sixty years.

"I asked you first," Dean returned like a petulant child.

"Well, I asked you second." Jasmine said, folding her arms over her breasts as she glowered very hard at Dean. "I am not an idiot, you know." she told him in a very even and low voice.

Dean cocked his head. "And . . . ?"

"And," she repeated. "I know you took a picture, Dean." her nostrils flared slightly as well as her eyes as she just stared at Dean, silent as a ghost.

Dean glanced out of the corner of his eye before quickly turning back to the road; Jasmine got quite scary when she looked like that - and, knowing that look made it even worse. "What proof do you have?"

"I know you," she said simply. "That's all the proof I need." she sighed and let her hands fall into her lap as she turned back to the front of the Impala and just stared out the window.

Dean furrowed his brow as he watched Jasmine out of the corner of his eye; he would have said that maybe it was Jaz's time of month but who was he trying to kid? He had met her when she was thirteen and now she was nineteen, from preteen to adult - how could he not be attuned to her every move; they were hunting partners after all. And he knew that this sudden silence from the teasing they just had was going to be . . .

Jasmine looked down at the hand in her lap; they were strong and calloused, but in a way, they were still a girls hands; small and the nail were rounded and smooth. Suddenly, she up looked at Dean. "Do you ever wonder what it would be like if you never found me back in those tunnels?"

Dean didn't even look at as he slowed his baby down, and pulled over to the side of the road before turning the Impala off. His tightened on the wheel as he said, "Where is this coming from?"

Jasmine just shrugged her shoulders but didn't take her eyes off Dean. "Just, do you?"

"No." Dean said finality.

Jasmine raised her eye brows, more curious now than depressed. "Really? You've never wondered if Sam still would have left if it weren't for me. If he would have stayed if you had spent more time with your brother instead of a stray?"

"You're not a stray!" Dean told her firmly. "And you know Sam; he never liked the Hunt, he liked school and books, soccer instead of guns. And the way he and dad used to go at it; it actually wasn't that bad."

"Yeah, until I came along."

"The only reason that Sam was mad at dad all the time was because of the way he looked at you." Jasmine furrowed her thin brows at this. Dean rolled his eyes but continued. "He looked at you like a daughter, stupid. Dad wanted two sons, yeah, but every father always wants a little princess." Dean smirked.

"I'm not a princess," Jasmine ground out.

Dean smirked. "You were - are, his Warrior Princess, Jaz."

"But Sam, Dean-" Jasmine started but Dean interrupted her when he placed his hand over hers.

"Sammy is my - our, brother and we will always love him; but he made his choice. I know you knew that he wasn't cut out for this type life style, it was never in his blood. Remember, he's happy where he is; with normal people and he has a hot girlfriend where he his - Harvard. And you know he's better off there, than he is with probably the most screwed up people in the world."

She remembered what Sam had told her that night; but she wanted to know if Dean thought that it was her fault. Jasmine saw a flash of sadness pass through Dean's emerald eyes as he thought about his baby brother, Sammy. He went to pull his hand away from hers, but she grabbed it and kept it where it was.

"Family is what we have left and we should stick together," She told him quietly, squeezing his hand tightly. "So, if you try to run away from me, I'll come after you. Baring a little gift called my foot up you ass." She smiled as Dean chuckled, this time letting him take his hand away.

"You wanna stick your foot up there, don't you?" Dean laughed.

Jasmine slapped his arm playfully. "Don't be such a pig!"

"Me? You're the one who likes to stick her foot up people's asses!"

"Fine, if I'm such a pig then you're the girl in this relationship; I know you got some girl part tucked up there!" Jasmine pointed to said areas where said parts were to be expected.

"Oh, really? You wanna play this game?" Dean asked as he got a glint in his clear green eyes. "Then I suppose there's junk dangling from between your legs?" before Jasmine could make a retort, Dean grabbed her leg and pulled it on the seat, yanked her shoe off and started to tickle the sensitive arc on her foot.

"Dean!" she squealed, kicking as she tried to get her foot free from Dean's grip.

But it was no use, she was strong but he was stronger. As she kicked, flailed and laughed until her side were heaving and tears streamed from the corner of her eyes; she started to grow weaker in her execution to escape Dean's iron grip. Jasmine like to think of herself as a strong person, strong woman - she did fight monster after all - but to thing that she would be reduced to a girlish heap of giggles was just insulting.

"Come on, Dean!" Jasmine gasped between girlish-giggles. "Your gonna make me _peeee_!" the last word came out as a definite squeal as Dean dove for her ribs.

Almost as soon as the word left her month, Dean jerked away from her. "Ewww! I can't believe that you just threatened to pee all over my Baby!"

"It's your fault!" Jasmine gasped out; laying across the front seat of the Impala, her bare foot in Dean's lap as she tried to catch her breath.

Dean wrinkled his nose as he looked down at Jasmine's now bare foot in his lap. "When's the last time you washed your feet?" he asked.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Jasmine asked, offended. "My feet are way cleaner than yours!"

"Right," Dean rolled his eyes as he turned back to the steering wheel; Jasmine's foot still in his lap. "Whatever you say, man." he shook his head and turned the key in the ignition and felt life rumble through his baby.

"Shut up and drive." Jasmine smiled and put her hands behind her head.


	7. Old Aquantence

**a/n: this chapter is a cross over with HOW I MET YOUR MOTHER. Just as in the chapter Home Base; there was a mention of Ted Mosby - they're the same person. SPN/HIMYM.**

**One Years Later:**

**Dean Winchester: 26 years-old**

**Jasmine Rhodes: 21 years-old.**

**Ted Mosby: 21 years-old**

**Puzzle Piece:**

**OLD AQUANTENCE**

Jasmine walked into a bar called MacLaren's with her head down. She paused just inside the door as she sent a text Dean to where she was she was. Stowing her cell her Jean pocket, she quickly scanned the bar for an empty seat; the place was pretty crowded but there was a table open near the middle of the room. It was the ideal place, Dean had always drilled into her head to put your back against the wall. Find all of the exits and access any danger in the room. She found both of the exits and no one seemed threatening; nobody even glanced her way when she walked in. There was only so much time that someone could spend in a stuffy, motel room.

Making up her mind, Jasmine quickly claimed the table. She took the seat that in front of a column, so at least her back was against something solid. And set down her bag on the other chair beside her, not really wanting to set it on the floor and having it in the chair kept it in view - there was the small chance that someone might try to snatch it, it was New York after all.

She was there about an a full minute before a waitress came by and took her order; a burger and a beer. Jasmine was never a big fan of beer, but this was a bar and over the short years she had been drinking, Jasmine had kind of gotten used to the taste. And what she thought it tasted like cool-aid without any sugar; she suppressed a gag as she retrieved the laptop from her bag. Her beer arrived first and she took a small sip as she booted up her computer.

Her and Dean were in New York on a case; at the Goliath National Bank or GNB for sort, there was a series of suicides and, after doing some research they had found that the same thing had happened years before. Work was hard to find in New York, it had been for a while and she and dean couldn't be FBI agents investigating a murder be cause they were suicides. So they had to find a way to sneak in and do some investigating.

Jasmine closed the laptop and shoved it in her bag as the Waitress placed a juicy looking burger on her table; jasmine said her thanks. The burger was huge and thick, but not in the bad way; the patty looked thick and juicy, adding the bun, tomato, lettuce ketchup and everything else - it was like the figgin' holy grail of hamburgers. She had to pick it up with two hands or the whole thing would just fall apart; she took a huge bite. Jasmine was a pig when she ate at the best of times, probably as big as Dean was when he ate; but with the size of the burger . . .

The bite filled her mouth and because the burger was so big, when she bit into it, the contents slid back wards. She quickly chewed and set the burger back down as she felt the warmness trailing down her chest. As the drip that fell on her chest slowly started to work its way downward. None of it got on her shirt, as she was wearing a tank top; quickly she collected to drop with her finger before it could make its way between her breasts and stuck the finger in her mouth.

Feeling eyes on her, Jasmine turned her finger still in her mouth. There was a group of five; two girls with red hair and brown hair; three men with blond hair, brown hair and black hair. She looked at each in turn; her eyes lingering on the one with black hair. He looked familiar; black spiky hair, dark green eyes, and that was all she need. Jasmine may not have seen him since she was 13 years-old; but she could recognize her Mr. BFF any where.

"Ted!" she yelled in surprise; her eyes wide.

Ted stared at her opened mouth, "Holy crap!" he blurted in turn.

Then, as one, they grinned at each other like fools. The next thing anyone knew, they were hugging each other as if they hadn't seen each other in years - which was the actual truth of the matter. Not since the a month before Jasmine was kidnapped and impersonated by a shapeshifter.

Jasmine pulled back, but still kept a grip on Ted as he stared at him unbelievingly. "Ted Mosby?" she said, giving him a little shake. Her brain still couldn't buzz through the fact that right in front of her was a grown up Ted Mosby.

But Ted grinned at her. "If it's not Ted Mosby, than you're hugging a stranger in a bar."

Jasmine just smiled and hugged him again; squeezing him tight and never wanting to let her Mr. BFF. But all things have to come to an end and in this case; it was their reunion. One of Ted's friends, the blonde, cleared his throat very loudly - like one of those popular. Blond, cheerleaders who have to have everyone always paying attention to them. Jasmine clenched her teeth, stifling the urge to jump across the table and thump his head against the table.

Reluctantly, Ted pulled away and turned towards his group of friends, though he kept a hand on Jasmine's shoulder. "Jasmine, this is my girlfriend, Robin." he pointed to the brunette that he had been sitting beside. "This is my best friend, Marshal." he pointed to the taller brunette man. "And this is his wife, Lily." This time he indicated to the small red head. "Lastly, Ted jerked his head towards the blond who, in Jasmine's mind was the shallow cheerleader." And that's Barney. Guys, this is Jasmine Rhodes, a friend from Ohio."

Barney gave her a flirtatious smile, running his fingers down his tie and was about to open him mouth.

"No," Jasmine told him firmly.

Barney raised his eyes brows innocently though she knew the type of guy he was; heck, she had been living with that type for eight years, but she knew that Dean could be nowhere near as bad as this guy.

"I am not going to sleep with you, Cheerleader Barney." she finished.

Everyone, including Ted, looked at her with shocked surprise; before bursting out in gales of laughter - all except for Barney, that is. Jasmine glanced at her watch as Ted slid back into the booth beside his girlfriend. Jasmine was some what surprised by the fact that she felt sadness. Is it cliché to say that when they were kids, that Jasmine and Ted planed to marry each other? Do all kids do that? She knew that all little girls planed their dream wedding, but did they ever plan to marry their Mr. BFF? But they had drifted apart, her hunting and him so far away; so maybe it was just a thing little kids did.

But, was Ted Mosby still her Mr. BFF? Jasmine figured that he wasn't; they hadn't seen each since they were 13 and they hadn't talked since they were16. And when Ted had introduced her to his friends, he said that Marshal was his best friends. But now that she actually thought about it, Dean was her best friend. Things could never last forever.

"Hey, Ted." Jasmine grabbed his attention and everyone else's too. "I have to run, but it was awesome to see you again."

"Oh, uh, okay." Ted looked at his friends before sliding out of the booth and giving Jasmine a hug. "It was good to see you, too. I'll see you around?" he asked as he pulled back.

"Maybe," she told him semi-truthfully. "I'll probably be here for a few more days; my partner and I are here on business. But I'll try to come back here before we leave."

"Okay, well I'm almost here every day. And I live just up stairs too." Ted told her pointing up.

"I'll come find you," Jasmine told him, giving his hand a squeeze before she turned back to her table. She packed her bag and laid a few bills on the table top, before giving the now cold burger a longing smile; she would probably grab something on the way back to the motel anyways. She gave Ted a hug at the bar door before heading out into the dark streets of New York City.

* * *

><p>Jasmine lay on the on the bed as she slowly flicked through the limited channels on the TV. Her head hanging off the foot of the bed, so the picture was upside down. Dean was out with the Impala still, probably at a bar picking up some hot waitress. Jasmine had sent him another text, telling him that she was back at the motel.<p>

There were three channels in all. One was full of just infomercials, that channel was garbage. The second one was old soap operas; and Jasmine could never stand those, so that one was out. The last one was free porn and that was the one she watched. As she watched the up side down picture, the moans and groans of hot pleasure washing over her bored body; between her legs started to heat.

Her fingers trailed down her stomach, to her the waist band of her track pants. She curled her toes as she slipped her hand under the band and into her underwear. Sucking in a breath as she felt a zing of pleasure at the touch. She teased herself for a while as she watched the man thrusting erratically. Teasing her entrance as their grunts grew louder. Jasmine's other hand slipped under her top, trailing up her stomach and cupping her breast. Unbidden, the memory of Dean having sex with that woman came to her mind, and she didn't have the urge to push it out. She dipped in her finger and her eyes closed with each thrust, blood rushed in her ears. Her back arched and her muscles locked, her breath coming in pants as she grew closer to the edge.

* * *

><p>Dean parked the Impala outside his and Jasmine's room door, turning off the engine and grabbing the pizza from the seat next to him. He had gotten the text from Jaz and wasn't sure she had eaten already, so he got a pizza, if she did already eat, than more for him. He shut the Impala door with a squeak of its hinges, before going into their room.<p>

He set the pizza on the table in the "kitchen" that was the first room you're in when you walk in, as the beds were block by a section of wall. Dean was about to call for Jaz when the moans and panting finally reached him ears. He cocked his head, his eye brows rose; there was no way that Jaz could be watching porn - but than the only other option would be that she was having sex . . .

Dean slowly, quietly stepped to the edge of the section of wall and peeked around the corner. What he say took his breath away, and it suffice to say, Dean Winchester blushed. Dean knew that he should have turned away, should have walked right out that door before he was noticed, hell, he probably should have acted like he had just walked in on his sister. But none of those crossed his mind as Dean watched Jaz go over the edge and orgasm travel through her body; she slumped against the bed, her body lax as she road through it. Dean ducked around the corner as she opened her eyes.

Jaz lay there for a moment, her eyes closed as she caught her breath, before she reluctantly opened her eyes. She knew that she should get up, especially before Dean got back. That got her moving; she had no idea what events would come to play if Dean ever walked in on her like this. Quickly, she flicked off the TV and almost ran into the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind her.

Dean gave a silent sigh of relief; if Jaz caught him basically peeping, it would be like Awkward Hell. Dean waited for about two minutes before he want to the door, opened it before slamming it shut again. "Hey, Jaz!" he called like he hadn't been there the whole time. "You hungry? I brought pizza," he dropped the pizza back onto the table.

"Awesome!" Jasmine called as she came back from the bathroom; trying to act nonchalant.

Dean needed a second to center himself, so he took a slice of pizza and took a huge bite. Jasmine came into the small kitchen, her face still slightly flushed as took her own slice. They looked at each other for a moment, both averting their eyes at the same time. Neither had any idea what the other had or had not seen.


	8. Trapped

**a/n: There's gonna be some wookie-wookie in this chapter; Dean/Jasmine. Sorry if you don't wanna see this pairing, but come one! This was inevitable - how could one be with Dean Winchester that long and not want some? Maybe a cliché move up in here with it. There will also be a slight reference to a Ryan Wolfe, and yes, that is going to be the same Ryan Wolfe from CSI: MIAMI. I also think that I'm going to be using that fact at a later time.**

**Two Weeks Later:**

**Bobby Singer: Early 40's (40)**

**Dean Winchester: 26 years-old**

**Jasmine Rhodes: 21 years-old.**

**Ted Mosby: 21 years-old**

**Puzzle Piece:**

**TRAPPED**

Jasmine's mind wandered how could it not? She and Dean were sort of stuck at the moment and it wasn't the sort of place, or position for a chat. So, her mind wandered over the events that had happened in the past two weeks.

After her run in with Ted, Jasmine didn't see him again those last few days of their hunt in the city. She knew he would be disappointed and hurt, but she didn't want to think about the past - even if Ted was one of the good memories form that time. Ted had moved on; gotten a real job, an apartment, a girlfriend and new best friends. And she . . . well, she had Dean, who she loved, was her best friend and her family. She and Ted couldn't be the Mister and Misses Best-Friends-Forever any more; not with the life he led now - not with the life she lead now.

Thinking of Ted made Jasmine think of the night after she left the bar. She was sure she was done before Dean got back; she was already in the bathroom when Dean came stomping in. Wait! Stomping? Dean didn't stomp; you would think that with his clunky, steel toe, biker boots, but Dean was quite the opposite. He was light on his feet as if he were a ballerina - Jasmine surprised a smile at that; dean would kick hr ass if he ever knew that she had compared him to a person who wears a tutu. But the urge to smile was soon faded as her thoughts got back on track.

If Dean ever stomped than why would he then? Jasmine knew people stomped loudly when they wanted people to think that they had left when they really hadn't. And people only stomp when they want people to know that their coming, or, they stomp to pretend that they had just arrived when they were really there the whole time and just saw your dirty secret.

Did that mean that Dean saw her? Jasmine started to panic but forced it down so Dean wouldn't notice. Is that what all of the staring was about? What? Was he grossed out by what he saw? Because he thought of her as a sister? Or, maybe he couldn't stop giving her looks because he thought it was hot? Jasmine wasn't sure of any thing at the moment. Could it really be possible that he thought of her in that way? Jasmine knew that she considered Dean that way, ever since she saw him naked, saw him having sex. But could Dean possibly see her in the same way?

She was drawn back to the situation at hand when Dean shifted, which in turn cause her to shift along with him. They were stuck, not figuratively, but quite literally - stuck between a wall and, well, a wall. They wouldn't be stuck if they were side by side, shoulder to shoulder. But instead, they were front to front, face to face. Pressed very, very close so that everything was touching everything else.

Neither of them really knew how they had ended up inside the wall, nor how they ended up face to face. But they both knew that they were hiding, and neither was going to admit that either. They had been there for at least an hour; inside this wall of an abandoned building that they were checking out for a hunt, a case that Bobby had found for them.

The thing that they had been hunting was there, catching both of them by surprise and they were definitely not prepared for that. This was they only available place for cover, and in such a hurry that they jammed themselves in at the same time; that was how they had ended up face to face. Okay, so they knew the how, but neither would once again, admit that.

Dean shifted again and Jasmine held back a growl of frustration, just barely. And instead, with what freedom she had and grabbed his arms; holding him still.

"Quit moving," She whispered, albeit growl-y in ear.

Dean did quit moving, but that didn't stop his mouth from moving. "I can't help it," he glowered at her through the darkness.

He most definitely couldn't, not with Jasmine pressed up against him as she was. And definitely not after what he had seen. There was no way he could ever look at her the same, feel the same way. He knew that something like this was bound to have happened eventually. They were always practically glued to each others sides. They had seen what each other looked like in the morning. Seen each other bloody and beaten, exhausted, sewn each other up. And, oddly, was the fact that they had never seen each other naked.

And just the thought of seeing Jaz without any clothes was enough to make him hot. He tried to shift again, but Jasmine's grip held him still. Was he screwed up if this was really turning him on, even in the situation they were in? And what would happen if Jasmine found out how he really felt? Having a erection right now would not do him or her any good, so he tried to tone down that thinking-about-her-naked thing. But what would be the point of pushing those images away with the way she was pressed up against him? Dean stifled the urge to shift again, because lets just be honest here; every time he shifted, he was just rubbing up against her - and if that didn't get him all hot and bothered quick, he wasn't sure what would.

There was scuttling farther down the wall from them, and Dean turned his head towards it. He smacked into Jasmine and their lips touched. Neither moved a muscle, neither made a noise. It was as if everything was frozen for a split second and in that second, neither protested, neither jerked away. Dean leaned forward every so slighting, putting some pressure against Jasmine's lips. Dean felt his heart skip a beat in excitement when she didn't jerk away and her lips started to move against his.

Jasmine couldn't believe that this was really happening, but those were definitely Dean's lips and that was definitely Dean's hardness pocking her thigh. There was hardly any room to move, but that didn't seem to cramp the mood. Yes, it was quite possibly the worst place ever to start making-out; but this was happening and it was happening now. They shifted and Dean couldn't help but moan against Jasmine's lips as his erection rubbed against her thigh.

Dean had had a lot of experience with woman; tons and tons of woman, but none of those compared to just a simple make out with Jasmine Rhodes. Dean had some how managed to get his hands under her shirt, revelling in the feel of her smooth skin of her stomach. He could feel the skin beneath his fingers twitch as he trailed his fingers upward, cupping her breasts under her braw.

This time, it was her turn to moan against Dean as he flicked a finger across the sensitive skin of her nipple. He broke the kiss from her lips and trailed his lips down her jaw, sucking on the pulse point on her neck. Jasmine leaned her head back until it hit the wall behind her, giving Dean more access to her neck.

Jasmine didn't have as much experience with men as Dean did with woman, but from what experience she did have, this trumped all. She wasn't a virgin, not by any means; but it's different for a girl than it is for a guy. When a guy go to a bar and has a one night stand; he's considered a "Playboy", but not in the bad way. When a girl goes to a bar and has a one night stand; she's considered a slut, and that word can only be used in the bad way. So Jasmine hadn't had as much "relationships" as Dean has had. Sure, she's had some one night stands, but there was on semi-constant in all of that.

The Winchester had never stayed any where longer than necessary and where ever the Winchester's went, so did Jasmine. But the one place that was a semi-constant home was Singer's Salvage. There was a boy in town, Ryan Wolfe, of whom she had made buddies with. He was the one who took her virginity, and they have done it at least a dozen more times after that. Last year he moved to Miami to live with his uncle.

She was jerked backed to reality as Dean ground up against her. God, if they weren't stuck inside this wall, Dean would probably be inside her right now. And just the thought of him inside of her to moan. Dean loved that sound, the sounds Jasmine made when she was all hot and bothered.

"_Dean_!" came a muffled voice behind him, on the other side of the wall, some distance away. "_Jasmine_!"

They broke apart, panting like crazy, trying to catch their breath. The voice came again, a little closer to their position. With his heat some what clear, Dean finally recognized the muffled voice but Jasmine beat him to it.

"Bobby," she whispered.

Dean nodded, they had managed to call Bobby but had lost the phone to the floor at their feet. They had totally forgotten about him and Bobby definitely had the worst timing yet.

"Did you forget about Bobby, too?" she panted into his ear.

Dean nodded, but than remembered that she wouldn't be able to see. "Yeah,"

"What are we gonna do, Dean?" Jasmine asked, finally getting her breath back.

Dean was quiet for a moment. "I don't know," he finally said, giving her breasts a squeeze as he thought about their options.

Jasmine couldn't help the but smile at that; she loved the way Dean still held her breasts. "Should we tell him?" she was more willing to let Dean keep his hand where ever he wanted.

Dean shook his head. "No, if we did, he'd probably just call us a bunch of '_idjits_' or we only did it cause we were stuck and bored."

Jasmine grew slightly panicked. "That's not what you think this is, do you?" because if he thought that she was just playing around, Jasmine was going to break his hands; making it so that he wouldn't be able to grab any breasts for the rest of his life. Plus the fact that she would make the rest of his life a living hell.

"Of course not!" he said almost immediately. "Is that what it is for you?" because if it was, well, that would be awkward and he'd feel like a total idiot.

"No," Jasmine told him firmly. "It's not." as if to prove her point she grabbed Dean's face and kissed him, hard and passionately.

"Good," Dean breathed, revelling in the feel of her lips. "You good?"

Jasmine thought about it for a second. "Sure, once you let go I think we can get out of here."

"What do you mean?" Dean asked, confused.

Jasmine gave an incredulous laugh. "Where are your hands, Dean?"

"Where are my hands?" Dean repeated. "Oh! Right. Sorry." but he still didn't take his hands away.

"You can play with them later," Jasmine reassured him. "Right now, I just to get out of this wall and go to the bathroom." she told him.

Dean couldn't help the bark of laughter at that, now noticing that he too had to go to the bathroom. Reluctantly, he released her breasts. Instantly, she felt the lose of contact and so did he.

"Ready now?" he asked.

"I'm as ready as you are." she replied.

"Whatever you say," was all he said.

He waited a beat.

"Bobby!" they yelled in union.

"_Dean_?" the call was way, way closer this time.

"Bobby! We're in the wall!" Dean called back.

"Of course you are, you idjit's!" Bobby yelled, right behind Dean on the other side of the wall.

Bothe Jasmine and Dean jerked at the close proximity; their heads smacking together. "OW!" they yelled in union, rubbing their foreheads.

"That's what ya get," was muttered crossly, fallowed by, "Idjit's." Bobby knocked on the wood, trying to indicate were Dean and Jasmine were. Dean banged back. "Cover your heads!" Bobby told them.

"Ready!" Dean yelled back, once they huddled their heads together, using their arms as a shield.

There was a loud bang and the wall about two feet away dented inward some. Another bang and the wall dented a little more inward, some pieces crumbling in away. Half a dozen more and there was a gaping hole in the wall. Glove hands pulled pieces away until the hole stretched half way across Dean back. With some very awkward movement, they were out, dusting themselves off. They stood there, and gave each other a quick once over; making sure it didn't look as if they hadn't just had a hot make out session.

Bobby gave them both a look, shaking his head. He had no idea what the hell he was supposed to say to these two idjit's, but as he shook his head, they both just gave him cheeky smiles. Bobby narrowed his eyes at them; he could see that their eyes kept quickly flicking to each other before going back to him, their smiles still plastered on - just like kids gettin' caught with their paws in the cookie jar. He turned his back to them and made his way out of the building, stupid idjit's.

They let out twin sighs of relief as Bobby turned the corner, giving each other wide eyed looks.

"Did he buy it?" Jasmine whispered to Dean frantically.

"No way did he buy that," Dean told her. "He knew,"

"Is that good or bad?"

"I have no idea . . ."


	9. Caught

**A Few Days Later:**

**Bobby Singer: Early 40's**

**John Winchester: Early 40's**

**Dean Winchester: 26 years-old**

**Jasmine Rhodes: 21 years-old.**

**Puzzle Piece:**

**CAUGHT**

Dean and Jasmine sat on either end of Bobby's couch, their eyes down cast, pressing themselves back into the couch as if the wanted to disappear from sight. And that was exactly what they wanted to do, Bobby noted from his spot behind his desk. Bobby thought that he would too, especially the way John was glaring down at them. But, he seemed more focused on Dean than he did Jasmine; and Bobby knew it was because john thought that Dean should have known better.

Dean had gotten caught red-handed with his hand in the cookie jar, and the cookie jar was Jasmine's pants. Bobby had had his suspicions, after the wall incident. Bobby had always seen how close that Dean and Jasmine had been; as it was once said "Once you save another man's life, you're responsible" - or girl for this matter. But what Dean and Jasmine had was different than that, it wasn't just about responsibility, it was also love. Bobby could see it in the way that each of them acted around each other, treated each other. But now, it was different or a least the type of love was different.

Bobby wasn't positive of their relationship until now - and this was one time he was glad to be an old man.

John was pissed, no, he was more than pissed; he was furious. "How could you be so stupid, Dean!" his mind yelled, not realizing he had actually said it out loud.

Dean looked at him than. "I don't think that I did anything stupid, dad." his face was a hard as his voice.

Bobby raised his eye brows in utter surprise; Dean had never ever used that tone of vice with John. That boy's finally growing a pair, Bobby thought.

John was shocked to say the least, but that didn't stop the anger that came from the disrespect in the tone Dean had spoken. "Don't use that tone with me," John told him.

Dean sat up straight, glaring at his father. "And what tone is that?"

_Ball's indeed_, Bobby thought.

Before John could open his mouth and yell back, Jasmine's brass ball decided to come into play.

"I don't see what the problem is,"

John turned his gaze to her.

"There is a problem, Jasmine, a big problem! And you should see it, both of you! You're hunting partners, and that's all you're supposed to be. You're supposed to trust each other enough to have the others back, so when your partner gets killed on the job, you move on. You're are not supposed to form a relationship and get attached. What happens if either one of you gets hurt or worse? Do you think you're going to be able to find another partner?"

His question was met with silence, but he saw the determined glance that Dean and Jasmine shared.

"This is gonna bite you guys right in the ass," he told them, running a hand through his greying hair.

He was right, of course; it was just a matter of time.

**- - - - - A few weeks later:**

"You can't stop this," she laughed madly, despite the situation.

Jasmine had the witch pinned down, a knife against her throat. "Take it back!" Jasmine screamed.

"You are never going to break this curse, Jasmine Irene Rhodes. At the next full moon you'll change into the opposite of what you are. No other can break this curse, no other witch can take it away, no deal with anyone can break it and I will not ever take it back. It will be with you until the day you die,"

The witch sighed as if a big burden had just been lifted off her shoulders, before she let her head _thunk_ back against the floor.

"You're lying," Jasmine growled, pushing the knife harder into the flesh of her neck.

Witchy laughed again, the sound like a evil scientist, it echoed through out the empty house. "Look into my eyes and say that again." she stared, her eyes unblinking.

Jasmine's nostrils flared, holding back the urge to slice her throat - instead, she looked into those eyes, the eyes so dark that they looked black. They were hard, dead, no feeling what so ever. Witchy smiled than and I knew that my face had fallen. That she had won and Jasmine had lost.

The witchy started to mutter under her breath, in something that Jasmine didn't understand.

"Shut up," Jasmine told her, pushing on the knife harder. It dug into her flesh, drawing blood, but the witch didn't even flinch and continued to mutter in a strange language.

Jasmine had seen movies; enough to know that witches mutter in a strange language under their breath was never a good thing. She covered witches mouth, using her knees to pin her arms. But the withes mouth still move and her words were as clear as if her mouth were free. This freaked Jasmine out, and she punched her. The witch stopped, but Jasmine didn't think that it was from the punch. It was proved a minute later.

Everything was silent, everything was still. Suddenly, witchy's eyes rolled in to her head and she started to seize. It was so violent that she threw Jasmine of her with such force that she hit the desk that was behind her. Jasmine hit her head and everything went really bright and she closed her eye; trying to block it out. When the light no longer shinned through her eye lids, she cracked them open. Her eyes went instantly to where the witch was or used to be. There was no body there on the floor, instead there was a dark scorch mark.

Jasmine sat up, her hand going to the back of her head; probing. She found a small bump and quickly jerked her hand away when the touch killed. She'd take a few pills when she got back to the motel. She gave the scorch a wary look as she retrieved her knife from the floor.

Jasmine walked to the nearest bar and drank; shot after shot. She needed to get her head straight and knew that alcohol wouldn't help, but needing it after what had happened. And what the hell did happen? She asked herself.

She couldn't even be bothered with drudging up the details. She'd just been stupid and went in without Dean. _Dean_. Jasmine had totally, almost forgotten about Dean. What was she gonna tell him? She knew that she was going to get ripped a new one when Dean found out that she had went in alone, without back up.

She and Dean had been seeing each other for, like a week now. And everything was the same between them, but it was different some how. Not that she minded the different part, but some time she just forgot that they were together. They had always been close, closer than normal people, and this was just the same but with sex. Yet, it just seemed so normal and that was the reason she forgot. And she was happy. It's not like she wasn't happy before, but now she was just even happier.

So what was she supposed to say to Dean? Not just about her going in solo, but the fact that she had been cursed. Cursed with a curse that couldn't be broken or taken away? And she didn't have to go on a life long quest or something to figure out that it was an unbreakable curse, because she had seen the truth in that witches eyes. And no, the witch didn't pull one over on her - she knew that monsters did tell the truth, especially when it would hurt you the most.

And the witch knew that this would hurt Jasmine and so she told the truth. What was the truth? Jasmine had no idea. But what she did know was that what ever the curse was, it was going to affect her and Dean majorly. And what the hell was the opposite of her? What was the opposite of Jasmine? Not Jasmine? So, what was not-Jasmine?

Yep, she was totally drunk and should probably go back to the motel before Dean had a freak out. So what was she supposed to tell Dean again? She couldn't remember. She just tell him in the morning.

She stumble into the room, slamming the door shut behind her. She flopped down face first into the nearest bed, Dean's bed. So she actually landed on top of Dean, who had been sitting on the bed, pinning him under her. Dean tried to roll her off, but she was dead weight so he gave up; letting her lay on top of him.

Jasmine buried her face in his neck, basking in the smell of him. Dean could smell her too, pretty clearly. Drunk, he knew and sighed because of it. He knew Jaz never drank. There were happy drunks, stupid drunks and love drunks and than there was Jasmine when she was drunk. Which was depressed. So he knew that when she was drank it was because she herself was depressed about something and being drunk seemed to help her get over faster.

"Jaz?" he tried, rubbing her back in a soothing manner. "What's up?"

"Hmm," was all she said in return.

She licked her lips than, Dean knew because he could feel the tip of her tongue brush against the sensitive skin of his neck. A second later she licked her lips again, using it as an excuse to lick Dean's neck. She remembered what his skin looked like when he was bathed in the moon light. Moon light. Why did that tug something in her brain? Moon, moon, moon, moon moon moon moon. Moon light. Moon bright. Full moon!

"When's the next full moon?" she asked, her words mumbled into his neck.

"What?" Dean asked, not understanding a word that just came out of her mouth.

Giving a groan, she pushed up. Not having the energy or feeling to drunk to hold herself up properly, she laid her face on Dean's face.

"Next full moon, when?" she grumbled out, not wanting to use so many words now.

"Uh, two days." Dean said, thinking about it.

But he didn't have time to ask why, because Jasmine was already snoring against his face.

**note: I know that this wasn't the best of chapters, but I hoped you liked it anyway; please review.**


	10. Change

**Bobby Singer: Early 40's**

**Dean Winchester: 26 years-old**

**Jasmine Rhodes: 21-22 years-old.**

**Puzzle Piece:**

**CHANGE**

Dean had pestered the truth out of Jasmine, well, most of the truth anyway. How was she supposed to tell Dean that she had been cursed to change into something that wasn't her in two days? That was the point and she knew that Dean was going to kill her because of that. But she still didn't get what the opposite of her was and that was more worrisome than turning into something other than herself. She figure that the witch made it so that she turned into some sort of monster; one that Dean would have to kill - and that would hurt both of them.

They had been staying at Bobby's because Dean was in a mood, because of her of course. But shouldn't she be the one in the mood? She was cursed, after all. But than they would wonder why and she didn't want to answer those questions. So, Jasmine had taken to distancing herself from them, from Dean. She figured that on the night of the full moon, she'd just run away.

Yes, it was childish, but she was freaking out. She loved Dean, just never had the chance to him so. There was no point now, though. What would be the point in telling him now when she was just going to go away? She'd make an excuse about going to the bathroom and just never come back, as simple as that.

But, as it turn out - not so much. She couldn't just not be with Dean, she just couldn't. Since that day in the sewer, she had been glued to his side. They had been together for nine years, nine. You can't just not be there and she was no exception. Dean had been her childhood, her teen years and her turn into woman hood. He had been there when she told him of her first kiss, lost her virginity - heck, he was there when she got her period. When she was sick, injured and just plain there. Dean was her life and she wanted to spend as much time with him as she could.

And that was her mistake.

She couldn't stay away, so on the night before the full moon came out she was glued to his side. She knew that when the witch meant the full moon, she meant when it was at it's at it's highest point. At least she hoped that's what she had meant, other wise Jasmine was screwed. So she timed the alarm on her watch to off five before midnight when the moon was at it's highest. An beeping alarm would be to obvious, so she made her watch so it blinked; that way, if Dean did see it, he would just assume that the battery was low or something. She had planned on wearing her jeans so she would be ready for her escape, but she had noticed Dean giving her looks, so she didn't think that it was worth the risk. So, she threw on a loose t-shirt and a pair of track pants.

Jasmine had been stressing the past day, stressing so much that she couldn't sleep a wink. And she didn't plan to, but thing can happen; whether you want it to or not. So who can she blame other than herself for dozing off all curled up a Dean side? It was just so . . . Just so God damn homey, is what Dean was.

She was shaken awake by Dean; rough or worried but gentle and boyfriend-y. From lack of sleep and a foggy mind, all though of the curse eluded her for the moment. She mm'd and was very reluctant to open her eyes.

"Come on, Jaz." Dean was persistent. "It's past midnight, you'll be more comfortable in bed."

That got through to her, not the bed part but the part about it being past midnight. Her eyes snapped open and bolted up right. Her head collided with Dean but she ignored the urge to rub it. How far past midnight? It couldn't have been that much if she was still herself. She held her watched close to her face; it was still blinking from the alarm she set; 12:03 am it read. She stood up, still trying to wrap her head around the fact.

"Jasmine," Dean was looking at her and knew in a second that something was major-ly wrong. "What's up?"

Jasmine looked up at him, her eyes wide. "Nothing," she said unconvincingly as she slowly started to back away. Dean fallowed. "I just gonna, gonna go to the bathroom." she moved away a little faster. "Yeah, that's it, the bathroom. I am going to the bathroom and I'll meet you there."

Jasmine had met the thresh hold of the living room and she had only three choices. One, she could go left to Bobby's occupied bedroom. Two, she could go to the right to the closet. Or three, she could run up the stairs and lock herself in the bathroom or a bedroom. Taking a chance, she spun around and took the stairs two at a time, locking herself in the closest bedroom. Dean was four seconds behind her, four seconds that cost him; by the time he was at the door, it was already locked.

Jasmine panicked as Dean pounded on the door; so, she shoved the dresser in front of the door. She knew that if Dean was determined enough, he could easily kick down the door down, the dresser might just stall him.

Dean pounded on the locked door like a cop. "Jasmine!" he hollered, not caring that Bobby was sleeping. "Open the door!"

God, what the hell was going on? One minute they were sleeping, snuggled together on the couch and the next she was acting like a crazy woman. He knew something was wrong ever since that thing with her going off alone with that witch. God, witches were the worst; they were sneaky. With their hexes and curses.

"Jasmine!" he called again. "Please, open the door and tell me what's the matter."

Jasmine was sitting on the floor, leaning back against the dresser as Dean pounded frantically on the door, her knees drawn to her chest. Silent tears ran down her face, tears that didn't seem to want to stop. She was going to turn into something that wasn't her, now. Dean was going to hate her and she's going to hate herself. Why hadn't she just told Dean in the first place? Maybe it wouldn't of had been so bad? He probably would have yelled at her more than he did after he found out she had gone alone. And maybe some huffing? That didn't seem so bad. Maybe than she could have used Bobby's panic room in the basement; the one that she had totally forgotten about. It was never to late, right? She could do it right now, while she was still herself, give Dean a few minutes to prepare - prepare for what, though?

"Dean?" she called, the pounding stopped instantly.

"Jaz? Baby?" Dean called back desperately.

"I need to tell you something," she said through the tears.

"Okay," Dean said. "I'm here."

"When I told you about the whole Witch thing, I didn't tell you everything." Jasmine said with guilt.

Dean was silent for a beat. "What wasn't everything?" he said slowly.

"She cursed me," Jasmine blurted.

Dean was dead silent as what Jasmine said actually sank in. "Bobby!" he hollered. "Get your ass up here, _now_!"

Bobby shouted something from downstairs and came stomping up the stairs; more cranky than ever. "It midnight for God's sake, boy! Why do you have to wake me up when having a squabble-"

Dean cut him off. "The fucking Witch cursed her, Bobby!"

"Balls!" Bobby was wide awake now. "Jasmine, why the hell didn't you say a damn thing?" he yelled through the door.

"I don't know! Okay?" she yelled back.

"That's not good enough," Bobby told her with a sigh, scrubbing a hand through his bed-head. "Okay," he sorted his thoughts. "What exactly did she say?"

Jasmine sighed herself; remembering every single word that came out of her mouth. "_'At the next full moon you'll change into the opposite of what you are. No other can break this curse, no other witch can take it away, no deal with anyone can break it and I will not ever take it back. It will be with you until the day you die_,'"

"Balls," Bobby breathed. "That's one air tight curse,"

"What does that mean?" Dean demanded, panicked.

"The full moon is tonight - right now. If I had had time, I might have been able to do some research, find a way to possibly break it. But not now," Bobby scratched his beard. Balls, balls, balls! For one person, this girl sure is trouble, he shook his head.

"So what does that mean?" came out of Dean again.

"That means," Bobby told him. "We have to find out what the opposite of her is."

Dean could do that. What was the opposite of Jasmine? The opposite of her-"

"Guy's?" Jasmine interrupted.

She was looking down at herself; it was well past midnight and she hadn't felt anything change per say, but she did feel a little different - an odd different, like a different-different. Her hands were hers but they were different. Bigger, if she had to use a word, like manly bigger. And her voice was hers but it was also different; deeper, if she had to use a word, manly deeper. Could it really have been that simple? She really just have changed into . . . Not a monster, just the opposite.

"Jaz?" Dean called, worried at her sudden silence; her voice had sounded weird. "What's wrong? What's happening?" he demanded, getting ready to bust the fringing' door off it's hinges - Bobby's house be damned.

But Bobby's question stopped him before he could. "What is Jasmine?" he asked. "If you had to describe her in one word, what would it be?"

"Uh," Dean thought frantically; many came to mind but he went with the most simplest, thinking that's what Bobby meant. "Girl," he said finally, but still not getting it.

Bobby knew that it wasn't because he was an idjit, Dean was in denial. He got that, and he was sorry for them, but it was better to just get it out in the open, get it over with. "What's the opposite of a girl?"

Dean shook his head, his lips tight.

"Say it, Dean." Bobby ordered him.

"Boy," Dean ground out painfully. "Boy,"


	11. Settling In

**Bobby Singer: Early 40's**

**John Winchester: Early 40's**

**Dean Winchester: 26 years-old**

**Jasmine Rhodes: 21-22 years-old.**

**Puzzle Piece:**

**SETTLING IN**

"So . . ." Jasmine trailed off, not knowing what to say.

Neither of them did; what was one supposed to say after one turns into a man, after all? And Jasmine was definitely a man now. She or was it he? So, she/he had all of the parts to prove it. No one had slept a wink since the transformation, well Bobby went back to bed, said he'd deal with it in the morning. Jasmine and Dean on the other hand, had since than been having the longest awkward moment in the universe.

Jasmine's clothes were a little tight and she/he thanked whoever that she/he had changed out of her/his jean's and the underwear she/he was really killing. And Jasmine really had figured out whether she/he would rather be called a she or a he. Since she/he was stuck as a guy she/he had better get used to the fact that she/he was, well, a guy. So Jasmine figured she/he would just be referred to as a He and not a She. Jasmine gave a sigh of relief at at least having gotten one thing out of the way. HE figured that HE could get used to the fact of being a guy instead of a girl.

"I think I gonna have to change my name or something, aren't I?" Jasmine suddenly said.

Dean couldn't help but smile a little at that, at least there was some of the old Jasmine left. Why was he thinking of Jasmine as the old Jasmine? Because, his mind supplied, she's a he now. Dean looked at her - him, Jasmine looked like Jasmine but a guy version, liker her male twin was all. Just Jasmine in a guy shell.

"We could just call you Jaz from now on," Dean told him.

"I guess," Jaz nodded. "Where does this leave us?" he asked suddenly.

"I don't know," Dean answered honestly.

"You're not into guys and I am pretty sure that I still do," Jaz ran his finger's through his now short hair. "This probably was never gonna work out in the first place, even when I was a girl. John was dead on the money,"

"Dad!" Dean blurted. "What are we gonna tell Dad?"

Jaz winced. "I don't suppose we could avoid him, for like ever?"

"Right," Dean scoffed. "He probably just track our sorry asses down."

Jaz stood up than, testing out his new limbs. Yeah, these girl panties were kinda tight, as well as the shirt and pants. He turned to Dean, pulling at the clothing clinging to his skin. "I don't suppose you have some extra clothes."

"Seriously?" Dean gave him a look.

"Seriously, I am pretty sure this underwear is cutting off my circulation in important places." Jaz shot a glance downward.

Dean burst into laughter. Not his usual manly chuckle that he has, but a very loud laughter. Side splitting, tear jerker, gasping for breath, can't stand up laughter. This was a Dean that Jaz had hardly ever seen, even after all of the years that they had been together. Because what did a couple of Hunter's have to laugh about; all the thing's they've seen, hunted, all of the lives ruined. Jaz smiled as he watched Dean, things were going to work out just fine.

* * *

><p>Jaz let the water cascade down his new body. It was kind of weird to look down and not see any boobs, and instead you saw a penis dangling form between your legs. Not many people got to say that they had boobs once, like people always say that getting kicked in the balls was like giving birth to a baby. There was no way for Jaz to really test out, since he never got pregnant when he was a girl, and he never wanted to get kicked in the balls in the first place. He'd seen other guys get hit there and that was enough for him.<p>

He stepped from the shower, and wiped himself down. Clearing the fog from the mirror in order to see his appearance. He looked at his new reflection; he looked the same but different, in a guy-like way. He still had a head full of dark locks, just not as long as before, they were short like Dean's. He still had his hazel brown eyes and his brows were the same if not a little thicker. Still had the same nose that is looked at upside-down it looked like a heart. His shoulders were broad instead of narrow, and his stomach was still flat. Instead of boobs, he had man-pecks and had more muscle than before. He was as tall as Dean, an even six-feet. And speaking of feet, his were much bigger; before they were a size nine, now they were probably a size twelve. Jaz figured that he would be hairy, but like Dean, not so much. His chest was smooth and hairless as well as his face, his arms and legs had hair but not so much as to say that he was hairy. His pits on the other hand were, which was new. His but was, what one would say "could bounce a nickel off of that"; and his penis was well "Holy shit!" worthy. Jaz didn't want to be an ass, but damn he was fine - that is is the Jasmine in him had something to say about it.

Jaz wasn't so sure this was a curse; he could probably hunt better now that he was guy. It wasn't because girls are weaker blah blah blah. No, Jaz was pretty strong when he was girl; but now he has more muscle mass and more of everything else. Jasmine was a good Hunter, but Jaz was going to be better. Dean was an awesome Hunter and some of that had to do with the fact that he was a guy.

And now Jaz was too.

Now, when he had sex there was no chance that he was going to get pregnant. He could pee standing up, probably pee anywhere now. He could now walk around without a shirt if he so chose or just for the fact that he could. He could eat like a pig and no one was gonna stare because guys eat like pigs.

Jaz quickly threw on the pair of pants Dean had loaned him and jerked open the bathroom door. He had remembered probably the best thing about not being a girl anymore and he just had to share it with Dean. Dean was in the living room, the TV was on a music channel playing some song Jaz didn't know, and Dean was lying across the couch asleep. Jaz, forgetting everything, ran over and jumped on him. Dean didn't even seem to notice.

Jaz was going to shake him a awake, but as he stared down at Dean's sleeping face, he notice how tired and stressed he really looked. Jaz had ran to Dean because he now knew that he wasn't going to get a period any more; because do you know how hard it was to hunt when you're on your period? Plus, Dean would have to deal with the week long mood every month. Jaz slowly climbed off of him, careful not jostle before sitting in front of the couch. He crossed his arms and laid them against the edge of the couch, before laying his head down on them as he just watched Dean sleep.

Jaz stared at Dean's face while he slept; looking at every detail. The shape of his face, his cheek bones, jaw line, the way his nose fits his face perfectly, his equal eye brows, his closed eye lids, the way his stubble frames his perfect lush lips.

God, Jaz missed him so much. It had been about eight hours since the transformation took place, but it felt as if he had been away from Dean for years. They had hardly talked and Jaz would have thought that Dean would be pissed, but instead his neutral. It felt like Dean was avoiding him, didn't want to touch or be near him. But Jaz missed him so much, missed his touch, the sound of his voice, his sexy voice, the way he looked when they had sex; everything.

Leaning foreword, Jaz pressed his lips against a sleeping Dean. Kissing him slowly, Jaz put every single drop of love he had for Dean into that one kiss. The last kiss, Jaz knew. Before he reluctantly pulled away and lay his head back on his arms; basking in Dean's scent as he fell into a deep needed sleep.

Dean scrunched up his nose, trying the get away from whatever was tickling it. Opening his eyes, he moved his head back, all he could see was a head of dark locks. Leaning up on his elbow Dean looked down at the sleeping head of Jaz. Not Jasmine any more, but Jaz, a guy that looked just like her. But it is her, his mind told him; she just has a guy's body is all.

And what was so wrong with that? Nothing, but it wasn't Jasmine, it wasn't his Jasmine. he looked down at Jaz as he gave a snort-snore, just like Jasmine. Dean squeezed his eyes shut for a second before opening them again. Slowly, he reached out and brushed his fingers through Jaz's short dark locks; they were still as soft as ever as well as still a little damp. Damp? That was when Dean finally noticed the rest of Jaz. He was wearing no shirt; his skin still as flawless as it had been before.

* * *

><p>Dean slowly trailed his finger across Jaz's shoulder, his touch lighter than a feather. Dean trailed his finger's down Jaz's back; so smooth. Dean took a deep breath, breathing in his scent as his finger's reached the waist-band of Jaz's track pants.<p>

Dean had never really looked at any guy in that way, but he did notice other guys; got to know your compotation, right? And Jaz was a good looking guy, just as Jasmine had been a good looking girl. And he loved Jasmine - Jaz. And he had had that experiment with a boy before, when he was sixteen, before he met Jasmine. So would it be so bad, if he wanted to be with Jaz that way again?

He knew when John found out that he would flip, but they would get to that bridge when they crossed it. Right now, he wasn't sure whether or not he wanted to cross the Jaz bridge. Dean thought that he would, if Jaz still wanted to; they had kinda broken up, but he wasn't so sure. Dean laid his head back on the couch, his nose buried in Jaz's hair and closed his eyes - he'd figure it out later, right now he just wanted to sleep for a while.


	12. Back In the Game

**Dean Winchester: 26 years-old**

**Sam Winchester: 23 years-old**

**Jasmine Rhodes: 22 years-old.**

**Puzzle Piece:**

**BACK IN THE GAME**

"Come on, Dean!" Jaz complained for what Dean was pretty sure the 70th time. "I'm sick of digging up the graves of small grade ghost's; I wanna get me some vampires."

"For that last time, _NO_!" Dean ground out, ready to start throwing punches. "We're gonna keep digging until I say so."

Dean threw that match into the unburied coffin, running a dirty hand through his dirty-blond hair. He really was looking at the idea of punching Jaz, now that he was a guy. But he knew that wouldn't solve anything and he had been the same way when he was a teen. John hardly letting him go on any hunt's and making him go to school instead. But Dean wanted to get Jaz used to his knew body before they went any bigger; it had only been a at least a week since the full moon.

Jaz only spoke when the when the fire finally went out. "Fine, I'll play along, but you can't keep this up forever." he told Dean confidently. "Can we go now?" he said, grabbing the shovel and bag before turning his back on Dean. "I'm hungry and I could use a drink right about now."

Dean sighed as he fallowed; Jaz wasn't a girl any more, but the moods were still there.

Dean watched Jaz from his spot at the bar, feeling the urge to strangle every hot girl that gave him the bedroom eyes. They were in a bar because Jaz wanted to drink and Dean could use one too. He wanted to play some pool, and Jaz. Jaz was sitting at a corner table, reading a God damn book - in a bar. And it wasn't a book pertaining to a hunt, it was a fiction book. A book about warrior cat's or something, and to Dean, that didn't make any sense at all.

But Dean guessed that it better if his attention was on something other than the woman eyeballing him from across the room. Dean knew that Jasmine had been well aware of how hot she was, but he wasn't so sure about Jaz. Every time he glanced up from his book, Dean was sure he looked right at those eyeballing woman each and every time, but he'd just smile politely and go back to his book. The woman would walk away disappointed each and every time and each and every time Dean would smile at her lose. Dean took a swallow of beer and continued to watch Jaz from across the room.

Jaz was starting to get really, very frustrated. He was trying to read a book for God's sake, and every time he glanced up there was a woman. He smiled politely at them at first before going back to his book, but as time wore on it was just getting annoying. Couldn't the tell he wanted nothing to do with them? Jaz didn't want them, he wanted Dean. And he knew that that was one thing he was never going to get, because Dean was straight and over him.

A shadow fell over him and Jaz stifled a sigh as he looked up into the blue eyes of a woman who had been by here multiple times over. Jaz couldn't take this any more; it was like he was being suffocated. This time, he didn't smile politely.

"Hi," Jaz said in a monotone. She smiled at him; he was gonna wipe that right off. "I don't mean to be an ass-hole," he did. "but I have no interest in you, or any other woman in this place. I don't know if you can tell, but I am gay. I like guys and right now, you're just really annoying me."

Her face was frozen in what Jaz called the about-to-slap-you-in-your-face look; he had used it many times before. But he stared her straight in her eyes as her hand came up and made contact with his face. He his jerked a little to the side with the force behind her small hand before she stocked away. Despite the slight sting, Jaz couldn't help the smile that crossed his face. After all that he had been through, he had never once been slapped, ever.

Jaz collected his things, and with a smile still on his face, made his way over to where Dean sat at the bar.

"I think I don't like woman very much," Jaz told Dean as he sat down at the bar.

Dean raised his eye brows, but narrowed them as he saw the redness of Jaz's cheek. Without any thought Dean grabbed Jaz's chin, and turned his face to get a better look at his cheek.

"How the hell did this happen?" Dean demanded.

Jaz just shrugged his shoulders; loving Dean's touch. "I told some girl off,"

Dean couldn't help the grin that split across his face; wishing he could have been there. He was sick of all those chick's crowding his man. Wait, his man? Where the hell had that come form? Dean shook his head; he always loved it when Jaz told people off. Jaz kept the smile on his face as Dean still held his chin, looking him in the eye with an odd expression.

"We should probably head back to the motel," Dean finally said, letting Jaz's chin go. He stood up, swallowed the rest of his beer and slapped down a few bills.

Dean looked up from the TV as Jaz came out of the bathroom, damp and onlt with a single towel around his waist. Watched as Jaz bent down and picked through the duffle on the floor. He pulled out a shirt and stuck it to his nose, jerking it away seconds later.

"Hey, Dean?" Jaz called, hands still sorting through the clothes in the duffle.

"Yeah?" Dean said slowly, still watching Jaz.

Was it starting to get hot in her or what? Dean blew out a slow, calming breath, not able to take his eyes off of Jaz. Jaz was still damp from the shower he just took, all naked except for the one towel around his waist. Bent over the duffle with his ass in the air - the ass that Dean couldn't seem to take his eyes off of. Who knew an ass like that could ever exist.

"Do you have any clean clothes?" Jaz's could bring Dean back out of the gutter.

"Uh, no." Dean said. "All the clothes in my duffle are dirty," he pulled the t-shirt he was wearing to his nose and gave a sniff. "And the one's I'm wearing are almost done for."

"Crap," Jaz cursed. "You're gonna have to do laundry before we leave town."

"Why do I have to?" Dean complained, turning off the TV and chucking the remote on the bed.

"Because," Jaz said, standing up and turning to him

"I am completely out of clothes; I don't even have any underwear."

Dean was silent as he stared at Jaz's bare chest; was it weird that he found it slightly arousing that Jaz didn't have any underwear? Dean shook himself, what the hell was wrong with him? He had never felt this way about a guy before or a girl for that matter. So why was he feeling like this around Jaz? Because it Jaz, stupid; his mind supplied. He ran a hand through his hair, sighing, as he focused his gaze back on Jaz's face.

Jaz was giving him a curious look, his head slightly cocked to the side.

"Anyway," Jaz said, adjusting the towel around his waist. Tying the two edges in a knot so it would stay around his waist until he thought otherwise. "I am going to bed," he told Dean, climbing under the sheets.

This seemed to be happening alot lately, Dean thought; not able to tears his gaze away. Again. It's not like it was his fault, it was Jaz's own fault. Yep, it was him and not Dean. It was Jaz's own fault that he had thrown off his blanket during the night. It was Jaz's own fault that he had no clean clothes. It was Jaz's own fault that he hadn't had any underwear and it was Jaz's own fault that he was only in a towel. It was Jaz's own fault that he laid on his stomach and ever so slightly on his side. Jaz's own fault that his arms were under his pillow and his leg bent and pulled towards his chest. And it was all Jaz's fault that Dean got a big eye full of, well, of everything.

And God definitely a very generous man. A very, very generous man.

* * *

><p>Dean watched as each piece of clothing tumble round and round; it was hypnotizing. But instead of seeing a mixed tumble of muted color's; all he could see was the image of Jaz on that bed in nothing but a bunched up towel. Round and round; it was oddly soothing though.<p>

The blast of AC/DC from his pocket tore him from the vortex, if only to pull his cell from his pocket and flip it open, not even looking to see who it was; though he assumed that it was Jaz.

"Yeah?" Dean answered.

_"Dean?"_

"Sam?" Dean said in utter surprise.

"_Yeah, it's me." was all he said in return, his voice oddly hard._

"Long time no speak," was all that came out of Dean's own mouth.

"_Right. . . " Sam said slowly. "Look, I want back in."_

"What?" Dean asked, confused.

_"I want back into the Hunting game, Dean" Sam clarified_ unnecessarily.

"What? Joe Collage too boring for you?" Dean smirked.

_"No. Just come pick me up, would you?"_

Dean was silent for a moment. "No." he said in return.

_"What do you mean "no"?" Sam demanded._

"I mean exactly what it mean's, Sam." Dean told his younger brother. "You're not hunting again, ever; I won't allow it."

_"Then I'll hunt on my own," Sam threatened_.

"Why would you want to come back, Sam? You got out, just like you wanted. And aren't you an Almost Lawyer or something and have a very hot serious girlfriend?" Dean countered.

_This time Sam's end was silent._

"Sam? You still there?" Dean sat forward in his chair, worried.

_"How do you know all of that?" Sam finally asked._

"What kind of big brother would I be if I didn't check up on you once in a while?"

_"And you didn't bother to come talk to me?" Sam demanded._

"You didn't bother to call me once in a while?" Dean returned.

_Sam sighed. "Can you just come and get me?"_

"Tell me why first." Dean said.

_"No, I'll tell you when you get here." _

That once sentence was packed so full of emotion, Dean was silent for a second. "Fine; we're done with the hunt here anyway, we'll be there as soon as we can." Dean told him.

_"You're still with Jasmine?" Sam asked._

"Yes, we're hunting partners, Sam." was all Dean said. God, how was he supposed to say that Jaz was a guy now to Sam when Dad didn't even know yet. Well, he could just figure it out when they got there.

_"Just get here, 'kay?" Sam said before he hung up without so much as a goodbye._

Dean stuck his tongue out at the phone before putting it back in his pocket. Jeez, you thought you knew a guy . . .


	13. A Part Of This

**Dean Winchester: 26 years-old**

**Sam Winchester: 23 years-old**

**Jasmine Rhodes: 22 years-old.**

**Puzzle Piece:**

**A PART OF THIS**

"I don't like this one bit, Dean." Jaz said as Dean drove.

Dean sighed. "It's because it's Sam, isn't it?"

"No, this is not because it's Sam, Dean." Jaz rolled his eyes. "Sure, Sam and I were never buddy-buddy but that has nothing to do with this, at all." Jaz told him, worried.

Dean glanced away from the dark road to Jaz, seeing that worried expression he sat up straight; only now realizing the seriousness of the situation. "What are thinking?" he asked.

"Didn't Sam tell you why he wanted back in?" Jaz asked.

"No, he said that when we got there, he'd tell me." Dean shrugged his shoulders.

"Don't you think it's weird that he would want to start hunting? I mean, he's doing well at Harvard, he has friends and a pretty blond girlfriend. So why would he give all of that up for this?" Jaz laid everything out.

Dean chewed on that load for a minute; it did seem very much odd that Sam would want to hunt again, after all he had done to get away from it, away from us. He hadn't called once in all the time he was at Harvard; building his new life. Away from them, away from this. And that was what it came down to them and hunting; both of the things that he ran from. So, why would he want to come back?

"Maybe it got to hard?" Dean tried.

"There's no way that place was ever hard for Sam."

"You're right about that," Dean nodded. "He finally decided that hunting was better than school?" he tried again.

"Ha! And what universe did this Sam come from?"

"Fine," Dean conceded. "What have you got?"

"Well, I'd say something really bad happened - supernatural wise." Jaz stuck it to Dean.

Dean looked Jaz. "And what planet did you come from?"

"It's called intuition," Jaz glared.

"It's called being a chick!" Dean chuckled.

"I am, sorta." Jaz gave him a look. "About that, what are we gonna tell Sam?"

"Well, he knows that we hunt together, but I didn't say any he's or she's, so he still think your you, the before you, you know?" Dean stitched together.

"Do _YOU_ even know what just came out of your mouth?" Jaz gave him another look.

"It doesn't matter if I know what came out of my mouth, as long as you know what came out of my mouth, okay?" Dean shot him a what-the-fuck look.

"No, Dean," Jaz said, really confused but trying not to laugh. "It's not okay because you aren't making any sense, at all."

"Okay," Dean took a breath. "Sam knows that we're hunting partner's, but he still think's you're a girl." he let the breath out, satisfied.

"Was that so hard?" Jaz laughed.

All Dean gave him in answer was a glare.

* * *

><p>Sam couldn't help but tap the table top in his anxiousness as he waited for Dean and Jasmine. He had called Dean again and said where they could meet; it was a bar of course. One that was open during the day, but barely had any patron's in it. The up most reason as to why he chose a bar was because he really, really needed a drink - multiple drinks actually. He really wanted to drink something strong, something to drown his sorrows in, but he didn't to be too drunk when Dean arrived, with Jasmine of course.<p>

God, he missed her so much - not Jasmine, but Jessica. Jessica, his girlfriend, his loved, the woman who he hoped was going to be his wife, the mother of his future children. But all of that went up in flame - literally - just a few days ago. If he hadn't gone out with a few friends that night instead of studying for the final, maybe none of this would have happened. Maybe Jessica wouldn't have been dragged onto the ceiling where she bleeds from a nonexistent wound in abdomen. Maybe he wouldn't have seen her catch on fire that came from no where. But why bother focusing on the maybes?

Sam wasn't even really sure how he even got out of their flaming apartment. Maybe it was the fact that he wasn't ready to die? Or he got out because he wanted to kill whatever thing had done this to him a million times over? He knew it was the latter, he could tell from the burning rage that bubbled just under the surface. And Sam was pretty sure of the supernatural being that had killed his Jessica right in front of him. It was a demon, the same demon that had killed his mother on the ceiling above him at six months. The yellow eyed demon. It was the same demon that ruined his child hood, and it was the same demon that had just ruined his adult life.

That was the reason that he wanted back in the game, back into the Hunting business. Revenge for Jessica's death. Or maybe he wanted back in to Avenge her Death? Sam wasn't sure at the moment; he was just overly angry and filled with hate as well as really depressed and sad. In short, he was a total and utter mess that just wanted to drink and hit something and cry all at the same time.

Hearing the familiar rumble of the Impala, Sam glanced out the grimy window to see the car park right outside the bar. He watched as the hinges on the driver's door squeaked as it was opened - something never change - and Dean climbed out. He walked toward the bar door, ut before he reached it, he looked behind himself and stopped. He stared through the car's windshield.

"What the hell!" he growled, walking to the passenger side of the Impala. He grabbed the door handle and pulled but the door didn't open.

Sam assumed that dean had dragged Jasmine along, but did she really feel that way about seeing him? Even after all of these years?

"Open up the door!" Dean said, tugging on the handle.

Jaz shook his head.

Dean stared at him through the window for a second. "Ha! My door's not locked," Dean said triumphantly.

Jaz dived for the driver's side door as Dean made a move to go around. But as he turned back, he found himself staring Dean right in the face. Jaz cursed, he really hadn't thought this through.

"Get out of the car," Dean growled at him from the back seat.

Jaz shook his head stubbornly.

"Don't make me come up there!" Dean used his parent voice.

Jaz squared his shoulders.

"Have it your way," Dean said simply, reaching across the seat and unlocking the passenger door.

Dean looked Jaz right in the eye, a feral grin playing its way across his lips. Jaz didn't smile back. Dean threw himself over the seat and onto Jaz, kicking the door open at the same time. Dean begged his Baby for forgiveness. Dean grabbed Jaz by the shirt and started to drag him out, but Jaz would have none of that. He struggled, getting enough freedom to flip over; he grabbed the steering wheel. Dean tugged and pulled, but Jaz's grib held. Panting for breath, Dean gave up, flopping on top of Jaz.

After a second Jaz let go of the steering, and let his forehead fall against the seat. Dean buried his face in the back of Jaz's neck, his eyes closed tight. Without thinking, Dean kissed the back of his neck. A second later Jaz started to shake as he laughed, which in turn caused him to shake.

"What?" Dean demanded.

"You choose now of all times?" Jaz asked.

"I chose now to do what?" Dean asked, confused.

"You chose now to finally make your move," Jaz said, slightly incredulous.

"Oh," was all Dean could think to say as he reluctantly climbed off of Jaz and out of the Impala.

Jaz fallowed him. "Don't worry; we'll finish this later." he reassured Dean with a smile. "Right now we have some Sam business to take care of."

* * *

><p>Sam had been so sure that Dean had brought Jasmine with him; especially after what he could see that went down in the Impala. But when Dean climbed out of the car and another person fallowed, he wasn't so sure any more. And Sam became even more positive that it wasn't Jasmine when Dean walked into the bar and a few steps behind him was another man. Dean made the other man slid into the seat across from Sam first, before sliding in himself. Dean ordered two beers and than there was a staring contest between the two.<p>

"Hey, Sam." Jaz finally said, giving Sam a warm smile when he glanced his way.

Sam looked straight at him, his face not friendly at all. "Who the hell are you?" he demanded.

But before Jaz could say anything, Sam turned to Dean.

"Who the hell is this? I thought you were partners with Jasmine? So where's she? I call you, my brother, to talk about something personal and you just bring some guy with you?" Sam's nostril's flared along with his anger.

"Whoa!" Dean made a calming gesture. "You're among friends."

"Oh, really?" Sam demanded, looking at Jaz. "I don't recall ever meeting you!"

"Sam!" Jaz yelled. "Calm the hell down for a second would you!"

Sam did rein in his anger, if only slightly. His breath was heavy as he glared between Dean and Jaz.

"Sam, listen to me." Dean ordered his brother, only continuing when Sam focused on him. "Jasmine and I were on hunt, it was a witch, by the way. And Jasmine, being all stupid," Dean threw Jaz a look. "Went after it alone, without back up. The witch cursed her before she could kill it."

"And?" Sam demanded when Dean continue.

"So Jasmine got cursed and now she's a guy." Dean jerked his thumb at Jaz who was avoiding eyes. "So, Jasmine + Witch Curse = Jaz, the guy version of Jasmine."

Sam looked at Dean for a while, before turning his gaze to Jaz, staring at him in turn for even longer.

"So, Jasmine is a guy now?" he finally said.

Dean nodded and Jaz chewed on his lip.

"All right, than." was all Sam said.


	14. Gone Unsaid

**Bobby Singer: Early 40's**

**John Winchester: Early 40's**

**Dean Winchester: 26 years-old**

**Sam Winchester: 23 years-old**

**Jasmine Rhodes: 22 years-old.**

**Puzzle Piece:**

**GONE UNSAID**

Sam sat back, his arms crossed and his face blank and hard, though his eyes were shinny as unshed tears collected there. He was silent as so was Dean and Jaz; after all, what could one say to comfort him. His girlfriend fired on the roof while he watched; how could useless words make up for that?

Dean stared at his brother, hard. "Think about this, Sam."

"I have thought about it, Dean. I've _BEEN_ thinking about it," Sam sat forward; his jaw tight at he stared at Dean.

"Yes, you have," Dean agreed. "With a clouded mind. You're angry, Sam, and you're not thinking straight."

Sam's nostril's flared. "Of course I'm angry, Dean; how could I not be? I just watched my girlfriend get burned,"

"And you're thinking irrationally," Dean told him.

"There is nothing irrational about this, Dean." Sam told him back.

"Everything about this is irrational! What about school, Sam?" Dean demanded.

"That's already taken care of," Sam said vaguely.

"And what does that mean?"

"That mean's I dropped out!" Sam shouted, calming slightly as the bar-tender looked up from his paper.

"What the hell is wrong with you, Sam?" Dean almost screamed, wanting to rip hi hair out.

"What's wrong with me is that I watched my girlfriend burn to death on the ceiling four days ago! That's what's wrong with me!" Sam hammered back.

Dean sat back in his seat as he stared at Sam for a moment with sad eyes. "Why are you doing this to yourself?" Dean asked.

Sam was silent.

"Dad did the same thing after mom died; going on this crazy quest of revenge." Dean shook his head slowly in disappointment. "He did it without thinking and he brang us down with him. You don't want to go down this path, Sam; you finally got out, got what you wanted. Why do this to yourself?"

"You would do the same thing," Sam said instead of answering the question.

Dean gave a quick glance towards Jaz, but Sam caught it; wondering what that look was about.

"This isn't about me, Sam, it's about you." Dean returned.

"I've made up my mind, Dean." Sam finally answered. "Either I go with you or I'll do it by myself,"

It was a threat, one Jaz knew that would work on Dean, because that was the type of person he was. There was no way that Dean would be able to let Sam go on this suicide mission alone. At that moment, Jaz hated Sam to his very core.

"If I smell anything funky, you're done." was all Dean said before sliding out of the booth and out of the bar.

Jaz stared silently at Sam who was staring down at the table top; Jaz hoped he felt ashamed. Jaz didn't understand how someone could do that to his own brother, how anyone could do something like this to Dean. Dean didn't deserve any of this, didn't deserve this type of life.

"Do you even notice all the damage you leave in your wake?" Jaz said before sliding out of the booth; going to find Dean.

"That's not good for you, you know." Jaz said, pecking over Dean's shoulder.

"Lot's of things aren't good for me, but I do them anyways." Dean said, speaking around the unlit cigarette. He brang the lit lighter up towards the tip of the cigarette, but before it could catch, Jaz blew it out.

Dean sighed and shoved the lighter in his pocket before he looked up at Jaz, the cigarette hanging from his lips.

"Smoking is the worst," Jaz said staring him in the eyes and taking the cigarette from Dean's lips and flicking it across the alley behind him.

"You know that I hardly," Dean said as he stared back, his voice low and rough.

"Kiss me," Jaz told him.

Dean didn't hesitate; he leaned forward, his lips touching Jaz's. Light at first, but then more demanding as time progressed; his eyes sliding closed. Jaz leaned into him until he was backed against the wall, pressing his body against Dean's. God, he loved these lips! Dean's arms came around his waist, giving hiss butt a squeeze, revelling in the feel.

They broke off the kiss, albeit reluctantly, panting slightly with their faces flushed. Jaz pressed his forehead into Dean's shoulder as he leaned against the other man.

"I've missed you so much, Dean." he finally whispered, his hands on either of Dean's hips.

"How could I have been such an idiot to have let you go?" Dean said in answer, pulling hugging him tightly, his eyes closed as he buried his face in Jaz's hair.

Sam watched from the edge of the alley, his eyes narrowed. He knew there was a reason he never really liked Jaz since the day that they had met. He was corrupting Dean since the minute she laid her sight on him. Sam had thought that it had been bad when she was a girl, but it seems to have gotten worse since he left and she became a guy. Did Dad know about this? He wondered. If not than he knew the reason why they were still together.

Sam turned away in disgust; how could his brother fallen so low? He now knew that getting back into hunting was the right thing, if only to fix this problem. He knew he had some tough work ahead of him.

Jaz sat in the back seat of the Impala, still wondering how the hell he got the back seat and not Sam. Dean was the driver, always was and always would be; but what was Sam's excuse? Right, he watched his girlfriend catch fire. Jaz didn't want to be an ass, but it really sounded like an excuse to him. But, for some reason it went unsaid that he would get the front seat. Jaz still thought that he should get the back - he didn't deserve the front! Jaz thought bitterly.

But Jaz didn't complain about that or the fact that they had to hunt more ghost's because Sam was just getting back into the game. Jaz didn't complain because he knew that it would upset Dean, but that didn't mean that he didn't complain on the inside.

Jaz stared down at the book in his lap, not reading but staring at the word until they blurred and swam. Occasionally, he would look up into the review mirror and catch Dean's gaze. And that was the gaze that kept Jaz focus, the gaze that made him not want to hate Sam's guts, but he couldn't help but hate them. He had caught Sam's gaze once, before they all got in the Impala, when Dean's back was turned.

It was a look that Jaz had seen Dean use when he was in hunting mode, before he killed a monster. A look of utter disgust; like they were a leach. Like Jaz was a leach.

Jaz didn't understand; the last time they had seen each other was awkward but it wasn't like this. But Jaz really didn't care; Sam was being selfish like he always was. He didn't care about others, didn't care about Dean - as long as he got what he wanted, he didn't give a rats ass what it did to those around him.

Jaz gave an inner sigh, slapping his book shut and leaning his head back before closing his eyes - it was going to be a long . . . long time.

Dean finally let out a very confused sigh in the darkness of the car, the only lights coming from the flashing vacant sign of the motel. Sam was in the room already, Dean saying he'd be there in a minute and Jaz was still asleep in the back. He leaned his forehead again his Baby's steering wheel for a minute taking a breath and trying to sort through his thoughts.

He wasn't sure whether or not to be happy about this situation. It had hurt him that his brother would choose complete stranger's over his own family, but he had survived - if only because Jaz has stayed. If he had left, Dean didn't think he could take it. Dean was going to give Sam some leeway, after what had happened with his girlfriend. But he still wasn't sure what he was feeling.

What was going to happen when Dad found out that Sam was back in? Dean wondered. Would he be glad that his youngest was back or would he be pissed? Hell, what was Dad going to do when he finally found out that Jaz was guy? Dean's plate felt like it was full, overloaded to be more exact; he wasn't what to think either about Sam coming back. Neutral, he decided, if he was neutral than he there wouldn't be a problem.

He turned around in his seat, just staring at the sleeping Jaz. He looked so peaceful in that moment as he gave a snort-snore, and it made Dean smile. Even though his face was relaxed in sleep, Dean knew that Jaz had to be just as confused with Sam joining them as he was.

Dean also knew that things were going to get kind of complicated. When it was the four of them, they got two rooms. When it was just the three of them, John got his own room while Dean and Jaz shared. When it was just the two of them, they shared the one room. But how was this going to work with Sam? With Dad it had been simple, but with Sam it seemed more complicated. Dean and Jaz couldn't ever seem to get any sleep at all if they weren't in the same room, but they couldn't just leave Sam alone. So, they'd just do the two single beds and the couch; alternating between the three.

Dean sighed again as he leaned across the front seat, his thumb lightly brushing his cheek bone. Jaz was awake instantly.

"Are we there yet?" he sat up and leaned forward, giving Dean a quick peck on the lips.

Dean gave him a smirk. "What would you do if I said no?"

Jaz got a glint in his eyes. "I wouldn't min one bit,"

Dean couldn't help the full on grin at that.

Sam had his back to the door as he typed away on his laptop. Dean said that he would be in a minute, but it had been at least a half an hour. Sam figured he was still in the Impala with _Jaz_; he sneered the name. Sam had wondered if it would have been better if he had called John instead of Dean. At least Dad would be more understanding of him wanted to hunt the demon; after all, they were in the same boat now. But Dean just didn't get it, didn't know how it felt to lose someone who was like that to you.

_***Jaz is that someone*,**_ something deep inside of Sam pointed out. _***If Jaz were to disappear***_ . . . _***He'd know how it felt; would understand. He'd help you, instead of holding you back*.**_

Sam shook his head ever so slightly before he continued to type.


	15. Off the Wagon

**John Winchester: mid 40's**

**Dean Winchester: 26 years-old**

**Sam Winchester: 23 years-old**

**Jasmine Rhodes: 22 years-old.**

**Puzzle Piece:**

**OFF THE WAGON**

Tensions have been running high lately; all of it due to the fact that Sam had joined them. It had been a month since he had and Dean couldn't take it any more, he had to get out this God damn small room. It's not like he couldn't stand to be around Sam, he loved his brother and always would. It was the fact that he was three hundred times worse then Dean had remembered. Granted, it had been four years since Dean had seen Sam and people can change with that amount of time - but being around Sam just made him to scream his head off.

Dean knew that if it was this bad for him, it had to be just as worst for Jaz. They had never ever gotten on well with each other, since the very start. The instant Dean and John had brought Jaz back with them to the motel. That had also been the very first time he had ever snapped at Sam. But when Sam was a kid, Dean could understand his frustrations: dad gone all the time, moving constantly, not having a mother, never getting to have any friends, seeing the thing that they've seen at his young age, Dean going along on the hunt's, being left alone in the motel rooms, all of that plus Dean and dad bring someone else into their family, taking even more attention away from Sam. But Sam was grown up now, so what the hell was his problem?

Yes, his girlfriend died only a month ago and Dean knew that it took a while to properly mourn a loved one, but Dean was very close to snapping. He didn't want to yell at his brother, it would probably make things worse between the three of them. Yes, it was most likely to cause unwanted tension; it was as taunt as a wire in here. He had to get, just out and he could breath. He felt like a jerk for leaving Jaz alone in here with Sam, but he was asleep so Dean didn't see the harm. Just out, out of this room and he would be fine.

The instant the door closed be hind Dean, Jaz was wide awake. And the instant the door closed behind Dean, Sam turned from his computer to Jaz, who had sat up and was rubbing sleepily at his brown eyes. Sam was silent and Jaz glanced around the room before looking at Sam, his hair tousled.

"Where's Dean?" Jaz asked, shoving the blankets off and throwing his legs over the side to sit up.

"He left just a few seconds ago," Sam narrowed his eyes ever so slightly.

"I figured," Jaz said, more to himself then anything else - after all that can't sleep without the other in the room works both ways.

Sam was silent as he watched Jaz scratch his stomach and yawn. He had been having these thoughts lately, thoughts that should have scared him but didn't. Thoughts that made him smile and plan instead. Jaz, not liking the silence and feeling his stare, looked up.

"Why are you here?" Sam asked.

Jaz furrowed his brows. "I was tired. . ." he trailed off, not under standing.

"No. Why are you _HERE_?" Sam said again.

Jaz paused. "I'm here because you left and John took me in . . ."

"Dean would be more compliant if you were gone." Sam said harshly.

Jaz raised his eyebrows before he narrowed his eyes. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?" he demanded.

"You know exactly what it means,"

Jaz narrowed his eyes even further as well as sat up a little straighter. "I don't know what the hell your problem is, Sam, but you need to watch it or we're going to have a real problem here." he said firmly, getting up and going to the door. He turned the handle and opened up the door, letting in the cool night air, before he could step out, Sam spoke.

"He would understand how dad and I feel about the fact that they one woman we really loved, is dead. And you are that-"

Jaz didn't stay to hear the rest the rest, slamming the door behind him. He walked straight into the parking lot and continued to walk; not really caring about the sharp gravel pocking his bare feet. He finally stopped at the edge of the lot and the edge of the empty highway, trying to calm his breath. A slight breeze ruffled his hair as he looked to the complete black sky over head.

"Why the hell don't you have any shoes on?" Dean demanded, his voice shooting through the dark air.

Jaz couldn't help the gasp of surprise that escaped him, but was glad that he didn't piss his pants. He turned to the right where Dean's voice had come from. He wasn't visible but Jaz could make out the glow and bob of the cherry from the lit cigarette between his fingers. Jaz didn't say anything as Dean stepped in beside, lacing his finger in Jaz's. Before Dean could move away, Jaz grabbed the cigarette from his fingers and took a drag.

"I thought those things were bad for you?" Dean said in comment to the action.

Jaz looked as him as he took the cigarette from between his lips. "I'll try to control myself," Jaz said, sarcastic.

Dean peered at him through the darkness. "Wake up on the wrong side of the bed?" he said, trying to lighten the mood.

"You could say that," Jaz deadpanned, taking another drag.

Sam's opportunity came a mere month and a half later, his way of getting rid of Jaz while at the same time. If multiple people had to get hurt for this to work, then so be it - as long as his ultimate goal was obtained. It was Las Vegas and the crowds were big, to many people to remembered a strangers face. It was the perfect place and the perfect monster. A shapeshifter to be more exact.

Over the past month and a half, Sam had played it nice. The tension between the three of them had lessened, thanks to Sam's deceiving. And because of that he had time, time to do his own research on the case. He had finally found the shapeshifter's lair, but he wasn't going to tell Dean and Jaz just yet. He had his own plans in mind for this shapeshifter.

He had told Dean and Jaz that he was going to the library to do more research on the case; Dean had accepted this and gone back to cleaning his guns. Jaz, on the other hand, had kept his gaze on Sam, not forgetting what Sam had so casually said about getting rid of him. Sam had kept his face blank until he was out of the motel room and out of the lot, which was when he let the grin cross his face.

The shapeshifter's lair was in an old abandoned house at the end of a dead-end road. Sam knew that the shapeshifter was there, in the bowels of the houses foundations. Slowly, he made his way from the front door, down to the basement; the floorboards beneath his feet creaking from his weight. He switched on his flashlight as he toed open the basement door, flashing the light down the many steps. Slowly, he descended.

"Did you really think that you could come here alone and kill me by yourself, did you?" a disembodied voice echoed around Sam.

Sam couldn't help the smile that crossed his face. "Quite the opposite actually,"

"Is that so," said the voice, curious.

"I have no real quarrel with, shifter." Sam told it.

"But I have one with you," it Sam back.

"I want to make a deal," Sam said, getting back on track.

"I'm listening," hissed through the air.

"I want someone dead and you can help with that." Sam said.

"What would I get in return?" it asked.

"Your life." Sam said bluntly.

"I could kill you right now," it said. "And no one would know."

Sam chuckled at that. "I very much doubt that."

The shifter was silent for a moment. "And what is it that you would have me do?"

"There's someone I want you to look like and get noticed by the other hunter's I'm with, I'll take care of the rest." Sam informed.

There was creaking on the steps above Sam, he turned and shone his light upward. The light enveloped the shapeshifter and Sam saw the familiar face. "This hunter, you mean?" it said, making an evil sneer cross the copy of Jaz's lips.

"That's the one," Sam nodded, an evil twist to his own lips.

"You sure this is the place?" Jaz asked, sceptically.

"I'm sure of it," Sam nodded.

Jaz gave him a look, shinning his flashlight at the abandoned house in front of them.

"Shouldn't we have brought Dean with us?" Jaz asked, still reluctant.

"He broke his wrist, remember?" Sam gave him a look this time.

"Right," Jaz cursed, forgetting that little detail.

Dean had fallen down a few flights of stair at their motel, he broke his wrist but other then that he got a few bruises. Sam had found the shapeshifter's lair and all three of them figured that they better get this done tonight - before the shifter killed any more, with Jaz's appearance to par. God, Jaz hated shifter's, so much. Dean was pissed that he wouldn't be able to help, but they couldn't just stall because he couldn't hold a gun.

"You ready?" Sam asked, raising his gun with his flashlight hand supporting it.

Jaz gave a curt nod, raising his own gun as he slowly turned the door knob and pushed the door open. It swung open, it creaked, and the sound seeming louder then it really was in the still air. Sam went in first, crossing over to the right. Jaz went second, crossing over to the left. They cleared the rooms on the first floor, finding no sign of any shapeshifter - no used appearances on the floor. Sam took the stairs up to the second floor two at a time.

Jaz stood in front of the basement door, it was open a crack and his flashlight shone off of some smeared glossiness from a shredded appearance. Jaz winced, wanting to gag as he pushed open the door and shone his light down the steps. Jaz glanced behind himself, he could hear the floor creaking upstairs as Sam moved around. He turned back to the doorway, looking down into the dank basement warily.

Jaz was about to take the first step when he felt the pressure on his lower back and flew down the stairs, tumbling head over heals. He slammed painfully into the wall at the end of the step, hitting his head hard against the wall. He had lost his gun some where in the fall, lucky it didn't go off on the way down. He had lost his flashlight too, it bounced off the wall and was somewhere farther in the basement - he could see it ray of light pointing at another pile of a shredded appearance. This was definitely the shifter's lair.

Jaz groaned painfully as he tried to sit up, but the pressure of a foot on his chest prevented him from doing so. He looked up and in the faint light from his flashlight he stared into his own eyes - the shifter's eyes. Jaz just froze; he couldn't breath, couldn't move, and couldn't yell for Sam. All of the memories that he had buried when he was thirteen, what it felt like to stare at someone who took your appearance and started to kill people.

The shifter had a sneer across its lips as it reached behind itself and pulled out a gun pointing it right between Jaz's eyes. It was about to open its mouth when there was three loud bangs, three bullets of silver pierced its back. It fell forward and onto Jaz, who tried to shove it off but didn't have enough strength to do so. Sam, on the other hand did. He pulled it off of Jaz as if it weighed nothing; Jaz breathed a sigh of relief.

"Thanks, Sam." Jaz breathed. "I thought I was done for, for sure." he raised his hand towards Sam, asking for some help up, but Sam didn't take his hand.

"You are gonna be done for," Sam said, looking down at him. "The shapeshifter just isn't the one who's going to do it."

Jaz dropped his hand, looking up at Sam in confusion. "What . . .?"

"With you gone, Dean will understand." Sam said simply.

And that was when Jaz remembered what Sam had said about getting rid of him. He had put it to the back of his mind, but had never forgotten about it. He had never really believed when Sam had gotten all nice all of a sudden. Figured that what ever Sam tried to do - if he ever tried to do anything - wouldn't do something like this.

Sam tucked his gun away and pulled out a very sharp looking blade in it's place.

"While I was upstairs the shifter stabbed you after pushing you down the stairs, I was able to kill the shifter, but not before you were dead." Sam told him with a smile.

Jaz looked up at him in horror and shock, his eyes shooting to the ground in search of his gun. Before he could find his Gun, Sam grabbed him by the front of his shirt, haling him up. Jaz's head pounded from what he was sure was a concussion, parts of his body throbbed and he was sure that he fractured his ankle. His shoulder was dislocated so he was helpless to defend himself as Sam pulled the knife back, ready to thrust.

"It wasn't nice knowing you," he brought the knife forward.

The sharpness of it pierce through Jaz's stomach as it it were mere butter, and his stomach flared white hot. Jaz's eyes widened and he gasped in pain, his good arm rose up and griped Sam's arm. Blood filled his mouth and leaked from the corner of his mouth. Sam looked at him for a moment before dropping him unceremoniously back to the floor. Jaz grunted at the impacted, coughing up blood as a result. His breath came in short spurts.

Sam tossed the knife by the dead shapeshifter before he took a step away from Jaz and pulled out his cell phone. He speed dialled Dean and gave a wicked smile at Jaz who was choking on his own blood.

_Dean picked up at the first ring. "Sam? Are you okay? Did you kill it?" he said in a rush._

Sam made he voice all panicky and worried as he turned his back to Jaz. "Dean, oh my God! I think Jaz is dead, Dean!"

_"What! Sam, what do you mean? Check on him, Sam. Check on him!"_

"Dean! There's blood every where! What do I do?"

_"I coming over there! Sam! Stay where you are!" Dean hung up the phone._

Sam closed his cell with a snap and a satisfied sigh and shoved it back into his back pocket. He turned back to Jaz. "It's as simple as that."

Jaz looked at him, a stray tear running out of the corner of his eye. He could believe that Sam would do something like this, something like this to Dean. But Jaz wasn't going to let him do this to Dean. While Sam had his back turned to Jaz, he had searched frantically for his missing gun. He had thanked God a thousand times over when he found it near.

Jaz looked Sam hard in the eye. "I didn't think that it was nice knowing you either, Sam." he said through a mouth full of blood.

Sam cocked his head to the side, not believing that Jaz would give up that easily. He was proven right when Jaz raised his good hand, his missing gun clutched in his fist. Sam had only time for his eyes to widen in surprise before Jaz fired two shots in his chest. He hit the ground dead.

Jaz let him arm fall back to the ground will a gasp. His head was getting real groggy and he was losing feeling. He was lightly headed and everything was tired. Dean would probably be here in ten minutes, but Jaz didn't think that he could hold on that. He needed Dean to know the truth about what happened, even if it killed him to do so. Painstakingly, he dug in his jean pockets for his cell. It took him a minute to find the number in his phone, his vision blurred. He took a few seconds more to put the cell on speaker before he let the drop by his ear.

He closed his eyes and his breath was heavy as the rang and rang - it felt like forever until Dean finally picked up the other end.

_"J-Jaz?" came his voice, slightly muffled._

"Dean . . ." Jaz's voice was weak.

_"Jaz! Hold on, I'm almost there! Where's Sam?" he asked._

"Dean," Jaz gasped. "There's something I have to tell you . . ."


	16. 4 Ways in, 1 Way Out

**Bobby Singer: Early 40's**

**Dean Winchester: 26 years-old**

**Jasmine Rhodes: 22 years-old.**

**Puzzle Piece:**

**FOUR WAYS IN, ONEWAY OUT**

Dean paced around on the gravel, the little wooden box clutched in his hands. His breath was heavy and his heart rate high. But it was broken at the same time, crushed into little shards that gabbed at his insides with every breath. Everything was wrong, screwed up. They were gone, HE was gone. Forever. Dean didn't know what to think about Sam, not after the message he heard in Jaz's dying breath. But Jaz, God, Jaz! He held back the sob that came up his throat, but not quite as it racked his body slightly.

He tried to hold back the well of tears that flooded his eyes, but it was no use, the tears over whelmed him and cascaded down his pale cheeks. He had to stop pacing; afraid he might hurt himself and instead fell to his knees. He didn't think he could take it, take this pain in his soul. It felt like it was ripped apart, and he knew that the reason for that was because Jaz had been his soul mate.

They were a two piece puzzle. He was one piece and Jaz was the other, and when they found each other in that sewer all those years ago, those pieces connected and created a picture. and when Jaz died, it was like someone had stomped and tore at that puzzle until it was just shreds. That was what was left of Dean's soul, everything inside of him.

Dean stared to scrape away the gravel in front of him, digging a shallow hole. He didn't care, nor really feel as some of his nails were torn away, or that his finger tips bleed. All he cared for was that shallow hole he dug, and that small wooden box that he shoved into the hole before pushing the dirt back over. All he cared about was getting Jaz back. And for that to happen he had to give his soul away at the crossroads.

It was just a soul, right? And right now his was in tatters. He would get ten more years and Jaz, it wasn't that big of a deal. He forced the tears out of his eyes as there was a crunch in the gravel; he looked up to find a demon. He wanted to jerk away, but instead he forced himself to stay. He stood, keeping an eye on the red-eyed demon.

She was older, probably her mid thirty's, her hair was dark black and her skin was pale. She wore a black dress that clung to her body and showed off her cleavage. Once upon a time Dean might have checked her out, but not now, not ever. The demon gave him a flirtatious smile, he didn't return nor care for it.

"What?" she purred. "No fore play?"

Dean clenched his jaw, forcing the urge to lash out down. "This isn't a game,"

"Of course not!" she exclaimed. "This is very serious; you want to sell your soul, Dean-o."

"Don't call me that!" Dean snapped out.

She help up her hands in surrender, but a smile was on her red lips. "As you wish,"

Dean ignored her. "I want you to bring Jaz back, and in ten years you can collect."

The demon tapped her chin with a slender finger with a nail as red as her lips, as if she were thinking about it. "No,"

Dean's face dropped. "What do you mean?" he demanded.

She smiled. "Even fore your gorgeous soul, it's not worth it, honey."

"Eight!"

She shook her head as she walked a slow circle around a stationary Dean.

"Six!"

Still, she shook her head in a negative.

"Five!"

She paused, and Dean thought that he had it, but she shook her head and started to walk again.

"Three!" he was getting really desperate; he just wasn't sure he could live without Jaz.

She tisked.

"One!" Dean all but sobbed.

She stopped in her tracks, hands on her hips as she faced Dean. Her head cocked slightly to the side and her perfect brows raised. "A year?" she scoffed.

"Yeah, a fucking year! Take it or leave it." it was out of his mouth before he could stop; he was just so God damn frustrated. Why the hell wouldn't the freaking demon take his stupid soul?

"No deal," she said slowly, before she turned her back on Dean and started to walk down one of the roads.

Dean ran forward and grabbed her arm, spinning her around with a force. "Why the hell not?"

She looked at Dean with pity in her eyes. "Why not?"

Dean just stared at her, his heart pounding heavily.

She sighed, her eyes rolling towards the sky before shooting to the ground. "Okay, I'll make you a deal."

Dean nodded rapidly. "One year,"

But the demon shook her head. "One _month_," she corrected.

"Huh?"

"Don't play dense, Dean-o, it doesn't suit you." she tisked again like a scolding school teacher. "One month, take it or leave it."

Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit! How could he have gotten himself into this? He just wanted Jaz back that was all. But to get him back and only being able to live a month. Dean couldn't go any longer without him, it had only been less then twenty-four hours and here he was, trying to sell his soul. Losing Sam was one thing, but losing Jaz was just worst.

"Fine," Dean croaked, a sudden lump in his throat. "One month and you bring Jaz back."

The demons red lips stretched in a smile, and before Dean could stop her, she yanked from his grip and grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him forwards. She crushed her red lips to Dean's, sealing the deal of his soul.

****

It was dark all around him, dark and empty. He had walked, trying to find something other then the empty. For all he knew, he could have walked for hours, miles even days and wouldn't have known it. It was like time didn't exist wherever it was that was. He wasn't tired or hungry, he was well, nothing and that freaked him a little. He had no idea where he was and why he was there, no idea where Dean was. He couldn't remember how he got here, he couldn't remember anything really. His head was just filled with thought of Dean. He had tried calling out, but before the sound even left his lips it was sucked away into the silence. He was about to give up and just sit down when the red eyes came.

Jaz eyes snapped open, his brown hues shooting from side to side, searching through the dark dimness from those red eyes. He gave a sigh when there were none and he noticed that the space around him was different. It was real, and with that realization came the intense sharpness in his stomach. He curled into a ball and pressed his hands against where the sharpness was emitting form. The pain lessened enough so that he was able to breathe again.

He called out, yelling for Dean, but only silence answered him.

From his curled up position, he looked at his surroundings. The dim light was from the fact that the outside dawn was leaking from the boarded up windows. The room he was in was old, dusty and more then likely abandoned. There was the old bed he was laying on with its bare mattress, and a full body length mirror on the wall at the foot of the bed.

As the pain throbbed again, Jaz sat up, keeping a hand pressed against his stomach. He was slightly hunched, afraid of straightening in case the pain came back. He now noticed the fact that he wasn't wearing any shoes, but had on a pair of paints and a sweater. Jaz stood and walked to the mirror on the wall, taking in his appearance. He looked normal enough, maybe a little paler then usual and the bruises under his eyes were a little more darker then he had last remembered.

Jaz slowly lift up his sweater to reveal his stomach and now knew why it hurt so much. There was a wound, mid way up his stomach, nearer to his left side. There was just one, and it didn't look that big, but by the thickness of this scar tissue, it had to have been deep. But Jaz knew that that wasn't the real cause of the pain, but the fact that the wound was fully healed and still had the stitches in it. Jaz stared at it for a moment before he let his sweater fall back down. He wouldn't be able to take them out, not now. He didn't have the tools, didn't have Dean, nor his cell phone and he had no idea where the hell he was.

Jaz couldn't quite remember how he got the wound in his stomach, but some how he knew that it had something to do with Sam and that Sam was now dead. But that was as far as he got because those red eyes would enter him mind and make his stomach tighten and heart clench. What a dream or nightmare.

He had to find Dean and he had to get out of this place and quick; he so didn't like the mojo floating around here. Sure, he did know where the hell he was, but he figured that if he walked long enough he'd find a payphone or something and be able to call Dean to come and pick him up. The one thing that he was very reluctant to do, was walked on the filthy ground in his bare feet - but knew it would be worth it if he could just get away from this place.

_ ****

Dean almost missed him. What with the dim lighting and all of the fog, the Impala's headlight catching Jaz at the last second. Dean slammed on the brakes, the sleek car skidding to a halt. Dean slammed into the steering wheel with the force of it. He shot out of the car, the door open and the car still running as he booked it to where Jaz now stood on the side of the road.

The second the red eyed demon vanished, he had jumped into the Impala and speed down the highway back to the abandoned house where Jaz lay dead - hopefully, now alive that he had sold his soul. But what he didn't expect was Jaz walking down the highway in bare feet with his hand pressed against his stomach.

Jaz's hand come up as bright head lights flashed passed him, hardly able to see in this in this fog. Because of that, he was very unprepared as Dean barrelled into him, both hitting the ground with the force. Jaz gave a grunt of surprise as he hit the ground; it was mixed with slight pain as he felt the stitches pull in his healed wound. But that didn't matter as Dean's arms wrapped around him and he buried his face in Jaz's neck. Jaz hugged him back and didn't let go. It felt like forever since he had seen Dean, felt him and smelled him - but he was here now and Jaz never wanted to let go.

Whatever Jaz was feeling, Dean felt it a hundred-thousand-million times more. Jaz was alive and kicking and that was all Dean needed to know. Dean couldn't fight the tears that pooled in his eyes as he buried his face in Jaz's neck, his tears falling on Jaz's neck. His sobs shaking his body.

Jaz rubbed his back. "Its okay, Dean." he soothed. "We're all okay," he didn't know why Dean was so upset, but figured he could find out later.

Dean shook his head back and forth for a second, trying to control his overrun emotions. He took several deep breaths, and finally the tears and sobbing stopped. He decided even before he made the deal with the crossroads demon that he would never tell Jaz, Bobby or Dad. He would keep it a secret for the rest of his life if he could, but he knew Bobby was going to find out - he had seen Jaz's dead body after all.

Dean leaned up on his elbows so he could look Jaz in the face. "I missed you," he whispered, giving Jaz a deep kiss.

Jaz returned it. "And how exactly long have I been gone?" he asked between kisses.

"Long enough," Dean said vaguely, crushing his lips once again to Jaz.

****

"Are you done yet?" Jaz asked, clicking his tongue in inpatients.

Dean paused, stopping with the tread halfway out. "I'll be done when you quit asking that." Dean continued to pull the thread the rest of the way out.

"Tell me again why I was in that abandoned house," Jaz asked as he stared at the ceiling of their room at Bobby's.

"We had to stop there for the night," Dean recited, continuing to pull the stitches out of Jaz's fully healed wound.

"And what's wrong with a motel room?" Jaz fallowed up.

"It would be a little odd for me to be dragging an unconscious person anywhere, wouldn't it?" Dean pointed out again.

"Right," Jaz chewed on his lip. "Why didn't I have any shoes?"

"Because," Dean voice grew slightly rough in his frustration. "I got kinda lazy, okay?"

"How long was I out?" Jaz inquired.

Dean squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. "Long enough," he said.

Jaz noted that they were the same words he said when they were on the side of the road. The same vague response that didn't really and never would, answer his question. If Dean kept saying that then it had to have been a while. Dean finally pulled the last stitch out and set his tools aside and watched Jaz as he lay on the bed exposed. He looked at the stab wound that had killed Jaz, the wound that Dean couldn't stop from killing his soul.

He ran his finger lightly over the healed scar tissue, the work of the red eyed demon. His touch was feather light and the newly healed skin still twitched. Jaz's eyes slipped closed at Dean's touch, the feel of calloused finger against his skin. Jaz could hear clothing hit the floor and knew that Dean was stripping down.

Jaz's breath hitched slightly as Dean unbuckled his belt before undoing his jeans and tugging them off. With Dean naked in front of him, he forgot all about the red eyes and the fact that when he and Dean arrived at Bobby's, he looked as if he were seeing a ghost.

Dean sat between Jaz's legs, admiring the lovely sight. If he was really only going to live for one more month, he'd better make the most of the time he had left. Now hadn't he?


	17. A Trip Downtown, Back Uptown

**Three Months Later:**

**Bobby Singer: Early 40's**

**Dean Winchester: 26 years-old**

**Jasmine Rhodes: 23 years-old.**

**Puzzle Piece:**

**A TRIP DOWNTOWN, BACK UPTOWN**

He gasped awake, a long, drawn in breath. The force of it brang his body upward, only to thud back down as his face collided with something solid a foot above him. He lay on the hard surface, his breath coming in wheezing snaps, scratching against his parched throat. Frantically, he stretched out his hands around him; they collided with more hard surfaces barely even a foot around him. He shoved his hands in his jean pockets, fumbling with his lighter. His fingers were shaking uncontrollably and it took him several tries to get a spark.

Finally, a flame flickered into life and lit up the surrounding area, which wasn't that much to begin with. He knew instantly what he was in and it made him panic - a coffin, he was in a coffin. And it wasn't even one of those plushy fabric kinds, the ones rich people get buried in. He yelled on the off chance that someone might hear, but it was no use; it was like sandpaper against his vocal cords, the only sound a rusted croak.

Dean's lighter flickered out and he smashed his fist against the top of his coffin in frustration. He winced as dirt trickled onto his face. His brow furrowed dirt? Did that mean he was buried; literally six feet under? And that bewildered him even more - he was supposed to be dead, wasn't he? They should have burned his body; the traditional Hunter funeral - though he was a little glad that they hadn't at the moment. He had sold his soul to save Jaz after

Sam had killed him; he had been desperate - the Demon wouldn't give him ten years, so he bargained. It didn't turn out to well, when he only got a month - like he said, he was majorly desperate.

But it still didn't make any sense as to how in the Hell he was alive. He winced and cringed at his choice of words; he didn't want to remember the place he had been. He didn't want to remember the pain and suffering, the monsters that were lurking down there, but now lurked some where in his mind. He shook his head, he had to get out of this box and find Jaz and Bobby.

Dean took a slow and deep breath, holding it in for a moment before breathing it out just as slowly. He tensed, bracing himself before his fist shot up, smashing against the wooden lid. He hit it about five times before the lid finally broke and dirt started to pour inside. His knuckles bloody, Dean tore the wood away; his fingers now bloody he wormed his way up through the hole and six feet of dirt.

His hand made it out of the grave first; popping into the air, grasping - it how the zombies did it in the movies, Dean hated those things. When he finally got his head out, he gasped, sucking in the fresh, warm air that surrounded him like a blanket. He took deep breaths, falling to the ground, exhausted from the dig.

Finally he caught his breath, stumbling up right he froze, his eyes widening. Surrounding him was the woods, or what could have been considered the woods once upon a time - a time that wasn't right now. The trees all surrounding his grave were blown down away from it, as if a nuke had gone off.

Despite that fact, Dean could recognize this place anywhere. After they had found Jaz, back when he was still Jasmine, they had stayed at Bobby's for quite awhile. During that time, to help train Jasmine as well as have her familiarize herself with the salvage yard and surrounding area, Dean would take her out. One day they were in the woods, a few miles away from the house, with no real destination they came across a small clearing. The grass was lush and green, different colored flowers were scattered around. The canopy above was just thick enough so that when the sun was out, individual beam of light shone through. Dean thought that it was girly and dorky, but because Jasmine loved it, he did too. And to claim it as their own. Jasmine had the idea of carving their names into the big purple lilac tree that adorned the center of the clearing.

Now, it was a _BIG_ clearing. It was open now that all of the surrounding trees had fallen and the ground was covered in the peddles from the lilac tree. Which was no longer in the middle that was where the resting place for his recently vacated grave. Jaz was going to be pissed, but there was nothing that Dean could do could for this place.

There was a clean stream near by, so he'd get a drink to quench his parched throat before hiking back to Bobby's.

* * *

><p>Bobby stood at the door of the safe room that he integrated into his basement. The iron walls that were once covered in many weapons that would destroy the supernatural, were now covered piece after piece of paper. What was drawn on those piece of paper worried him to such an extent that he had no clue as to do to solve it.<p>

It had been three months - four if you wanted to count when the event took place at the beginning of the three. Sam - Bobby shook his head - Sam had killed Jaz and Jaz in turn killed him. Bobby knew that Jaz wasn't lying about that fact, as much as Bobby wanted to deny it. Jaz had learned his lesson after not saying a thing about being cursed by the witch. Bobby didn't want to have to acknowledge the fact that Sam had killed family, but it was too late to deny that now - it felt like years since that day. Jaz had been dead, Bobby had seen the body. Dean had lost it; going to the crossroads and making a deal with a Demon. Trading his soul with just one more month of life, for Jaz to be alive again.

Of course Jaz had no idea and Dean say a word, but neither did Bobby. Though the grizzled Hunter had confronted Dean about it, neither told Jaz. So when the night came, a month later a midnight; Dean was torn to shreds by Hell Hounds.

Still, three months later and Jaz still didn't know that Dean had made a deal for his life. Jaz had lost it too, though he not going around making any deals like Dean had, but instead he shut down.

Bobby had to tell him to eat, literally sit down and make sure that Jaz took every bite. Bobby had to tell him to shower, everything. Jaz didn't talk, and he wasn't the type not to talk. He was pale and thin, dark bags under his eyes, his dark hair was longer than usual and he barely shaved. Bobby had made best friends with the liquor store in town, but Jaz didn't touch a single drop.

And then he started to draw. Bobby had never known Jaz to be an artist, but he could have made a career out of it if he hadn't taken up Hunting. Bobby was sure that it was the drawing that disturbed him the most. Eyes; but not just any type of eyes, they were Red eyes - Crossroad Demon eyes.

There was pounding on the upstairs door and Bobby glanced up the stairs on habit, Jaz didn't seem to notice. He was on his knees on the floor, leaning forward over his pad of paper. He was wearing a simple shirt and tract pant, his feet bare and tucked under himself. Bobby turned and stomped up the stairs; still having no clue as to why Jaz chose the panic room. Maybe it was because he thought that if he stayed in there, then the monster that got Dean wouldn't get him.

Bobby didn't know what he had expected to find on the other side of the door, but it definitely wasn't that. Bobby took multiple steps back until his back hit the wall as Dean took a step over the houses threshold.

"Long time, no see," Dean gave Bobby a tired grin.

Bobby didn't smile back and instead gripped the handle of the silver knife from the table at his side. He lunged at

Dean, his knife ready to slash downward, ready to kill whatever this thing was that had taken Dean's form. He just thanked God that Jaz was so out of it right now, because if he saw this, Bobby wasn't sure what would happen. Dean was prepared though, tired as he was. He grabbed Bobby's wrist before the knife could cut off any of his precious skin, and with some resistance he twist Bobby's arm behind his back. Dean squeezed his wrist, causing Bobby to release the knife. He grabbed it just in time as Bobby broke his hold, twisted around and shoved him into the library. Dean stumbled, grabbing a roller chair against the wall and with his momentum, spun and pushed it between him and Bobby.

"Whoa!" he held up his hands as Bobby went to lung for him again, one palm held up and the other gripping the silver knife.

Bobby didn't lung, but held his ground. "Revenant!" he bellowed.

"What?" Dean exclaimed in surprise. "I ain't no Revenant!"

"That just what a revenant would say," Bobby countered gruffly.

"Fine, would a Revenant do this?" quickly he rolled up his sleeve and pressed the sharp edge of the knife against the flesh of his upper arm and slowly dragged it across. Dean held it out for Bobby to see as blood welled around the cut, and when it didn't sizzle or crackle Bobby seemed to relax.

"Damn, boy." Bobby breath out pulling Dean into a crushing hug. "It's good to see you."

"I'll bet," Dean squeezed him back.

"But how?" Bobby pulled away.

All Dean could do was shrug shoulders. "Your guess is as good as mine. One second everything was dark and then I woke up in a hole." he shook his head. "You should have seen it, Bobby, it was like a nuke-" he stopped suddenly as he got a face full of Holy water. "I'm not a Demon either," he drawled.

Booby shrugged his shoulders, "You can't be too careful." "But you were dead," Bobby said. "Six feet under."

"Yeah," Dean cocked his head. "Why is that? Not that I'm not glad or anything . . ."

"I wanted to give you a Hunters funeral; salt and burn." Bobby told him. "Jaz wouldn't have it."

"_Jaz_," Dean said suddenly, his back going ramrod straight. "Where is Jaz?"

Bobby . . . He glanced away; what was he supposed to tell Dean?

"What?" Dean demanded, taking a step towards Bobby. "Where is he?"

"He's in the panic room," he barely finished before Dean was off like a rocket. "Dean!" he yelled, but it was already too late. "Balls," he cursed.

* * *

><p><em>Dead dead dead dead dead dead dead dead dead dead dead dead dead dead dead dead dead dead dead dead<em> . . . It had been bouncing painfully around in Jaz's head for three months now, so much that it became a mantra. He had tried shutting down, tried to block everything out - but that one word just wouldn't shut the _Hell_ up!

Then the red eyes came and he could stop them either, they were the same eyes that he had seen after Sam had stabbed him badly. He figured that he had been on the very edge, teetering between life and death. Thankfully, he had chosen to fall on the life side, because other he had no idea how Dean might have taken it. Jaz was sure that Dean would have taken it better then he himself had. He was a mess, couldn't sleep, didn't want to eat, didn't have the energy for a shower. His hair was just blah and he was even wearing stubble.

The only way he could make things hurt less, though hardly by a drop, was to draw them. They watched him, causing him to be paranoid and tense. His head pounded and something wet plopped onto the page he was drawing on. He tried to wipe it away, but it only smeared onto the page. He kept sketching, sketching, sketching . . . he wiped his nose on his sleeve, the blood staining the material. _Dead dead dead dead dead dead dead dead dead_ . . .

"Jaz . . ."

_Dead dead dead dead dead dead dead dead_ . . . Jaz was hearing things, that was all. It would be the first time today either - a few hours early, he had to go to the bathroom, it was the only thing that Bobby didn't have to order him to do. He didn't know why he did it then, he never had before, but as he past the window, he stopped and lifted the curtain away. The sky had been blue a blue he had never seen before, it was like liquid but solid at the same time; that was when he saw it, or him would be more accurate. It was a man, just standing there on the hill that lay out the window; the way the sun was it made it hard to make out any real pacific. Though Jaz was pretty sure the man was wearing a pail trench coat; Jaz had shaken his head the possibility he was hallucinating, and sure enough when he had looked again, the man was gone, a strong wind rustling the trees. Jaz had heard a voice too, but it had been to faint and soft to hear.

Dean was gone and he was just loosing it - going crazy . . .


	18. Back On the Horse

**Bobby Singer: Early 40's**

**Dean Winchester: 26 years-old**

**Jasmine Rhodes: 23 years-old.**

**Puzzle Piece:**

**BACK ON THE HORSE**

Dean looked around the panic room in horror; the walls covered in red eyes - the same red eyes that had belonged to the crossroads Demon he had sold his soul to in order to bring Jaz back from the dead. Slowly, cautiously he stepped inside.

"Jaz . . ." he said again, low and soothingly.

The only sign that Jaz should that he knew Dean was even there was a twitch, Dean probably wouldn't have seen it if his eyes hadn't been glued to him. His body was tense and wired, his hand gripping his pencil tightly enough that they were past white. He was a sight to behold, not the usual groomed Jaz that he was used to seeing; dark hair trimmed, brushed and silky clean, face washed and clean shaven, teeth pearly white, his clothes clean and wrinkle free. Dean would have thought that When Jaz became a guy, that it would be more cause to act like more of a pig. But it seemed to have the opposite effect, Jaz was still the same person, but he took care of himself better when he was a guy rather then he did when he was a woman. It didn't matter to Dean whether or not Jaz was a guy or a woman, just as long as he had Jaz - it sounded cliché and girly, but it was the truth. And now Jaz's appearance was unruly; his hair was longer, messy and full of split end - Dean did not want to delve deeper into the fact that he actually noticed that - his chin was covered in stubble, and his clothes were worn and full of wrinkles - and Dean was sure that he could see a fresh smear of blood on Jaz's sleeve. Dean could see the paleness of his skin, the loss of weight as well as muscle tone; hadn't been frigging eating, wasn't Bobby feeding him for Christ's sake!

Ignoring the eerie Demon eyes that were scattered around the room, Dean sat down beside Jaz, keeping enough distance between them that if something happened he would be ready to move. As he settled down, Jaz tensed up further if it were possible.

"Jaz . . ." Dean said, again in a soft voice.

Jaz's pencil snapped in his hand, the edges pinching the sensitive skin on his palm, but he continued to sketch - his strokes growing harder.

"_Go away, go away, go away go away_ . ." he whispered desperately. "Leave me alone." Suddenly his head turned and he looked at Dean, his hazel eyes dull as tears trailed down his cheeks. "Your death, you're not supposed to be here," he whispered, his voice hoarse from lack of use. "You were torn to shreds; I should have been there . . ."

Dean reached out gently cupped Jaz's face, his thumb swiping away the straying tears. "It's not your fault," Dean said softly but firmly.

The tears stopped instantly, and Jaz's eyes nearly popped out of his head. If Dean thought that Jaz had been pale before, that observation paled in comparison on the hue that Jaz was now sporting at the moment. "Whuh . . .?" Jaz gasped. "Dead," he said faintly.

"I'm not, Jaz, not anymore." Dean told him, his voice still soft. "I'm flesh, and blood, just like you."

Dean cupped either side of Jaz's face and leaned forward, placing a gentle and chaste kiss on hi slightly parted lips. Jaz was frozen, probably from shock. His heart, was beating erratically at a speed he was sure the pump couldn't take. It was painful, and he was sure that it was going to blow and he would be dead. Dean was here and he didn't understand it. He had to be real if he was touching Jaz and Jaz knew that if Dean was something other then himself, Bobby would have finished him off before he even reached the stairs. Dean kissed him again, this time putting a little more pressure into it. It took a second, but Jaz forced himself to thaw out; letting his eyes slip shut and opened his mouth, letting Dean in.

It got pretty heated after that, Bobby quickly went back up the stairs - there were something that he had no business nor ever wanted to see in his entire life. He had fallowed Dean, ready to intervene if anything went amiss. But by the looks of it . . . Bobby shook his head and shuttered; something's he didn't need to be witness to.

* * *

><p>Jaz was starving and so was Dean; Jaz had hardly eaten anything in the three months, and Dean had been dead for three months. But Bobby, Bobby wouldn't let them gorge themselves in the greasy food that they craved, and instead made them start off with broth - like they were sick little children.<p>

"This is bull crap!" Dean fumed, glowering at Bobby's back as the other man stood in the front of the stove.

Dean showered and was now clean, he put on a new pair of jeans and T-shirt, his hair was glossy and wet. Jaz had patched up his bloody hands and had changed into a pair of jean, clothes he hadn't worn in three months.

"His cooking isn't that bad," Jaz told; he would know, he had been eating Bobby's cooking for three month's after all.

Dean just gave him a yeah-right look, jumping when Bobby non to gently set the bowl of soup in front of him. Dean gave an innocent smirk and Bobby shook his head.

"Eat it or starve," he said gruffly.

* * *

><p>Jaz sat back in his chair; his stomach and he just watched Dean. Everything was going to be normal again, it had to and it made sense that it would. Jaz was no longer going crazy, at least he hoped so; there was still that thing with the guy in the trench coat out the window, something he still hadn't told Bobby or Dean. Dean was alive again, his Body unhurt as far as Jaz could tell, and he looked and acted just like his normal self. So Jaz forced himself not to freak out, pushing all of the hysteria downward. He needed Dean to be alright, to be himself or Jaz was sure he would loose it again. He didn't care that it made him look weak and pathetic; it sounded really stupid, but when into the grave it felt like a piece of him was ripped away.<p>

Finally Dean was done eating as well and he sat back too, taking a swig from his bear. He stared at the roof for a second before his emerald eyes focused on Jaz. Dean gave him a lazy smile, one that always made Jaz's heart pound a little faster, and lifted his foot under the table, placing it in the space on the chair between Jaz's legs. Jaz's eyes darted to the side, making sure that from where Bobby sat in the library he wouldn't be able to see. He turned back to Dean, a slightly shy smile marring his lips. Jaz didn't understand why he was suddenly shy, he had grown up with Dean, have had sex with Dean, he had been with Dean forever - so why was he acting all girly?

Jaz looked back at Dean, who looked back for a moment before sighing and taking his foot back. Jaz furrowed his brows, worrying that he had done something wrong. Dean sat up straight and took a swig from his warming beer and look at Jaz with concerned eyes. Jaz stared, confused as ever by the sudden change it the atmosphere. He opened his mouth intending to say something, anything to fill the still and charged air, but instead he snapped it shut incase he was misreading the situation.

Dean leaned forward against the table. "Jaz," he said. "We need to talk."

This was exactly what Jaz had been dreading - the talk. The Talk always ruined everything, Jaz had watched TV, had experienced that The Talk before, he wasn't an idiot. If that talk happened, then everything went to shit. Jaz wanted to ignore all of it, just have everything return back to normal like it was three months ago. But from the look on Dean's face, Jaz knew that he would have preferred to ignore it all to, but there was something on the man's mind and when Dean wanted to say something he was gonna say it.

So Jaz sighed in acceptance and nodded sadly. "I guess," he sad, real reluctant.

Dean sighed too, and ran his fingers through his hair. "I don't like this any more than you do, but we can't ignore the fact that I did and came back to life."

"You didn't die," Jaz blurted. "Something killed you."

Dean winced at the bluntness of it, knowing that Jaz was oblivious to the real truth. Dean knew that he should tell Jaz, about everything, knew he was playing with fire when he didn't and knew that when the time came, he would burn. But he couldn't, if only to prevent from how he pictured what would happen in his mind if he told Jaz.

"I think we should go Hunting again," he said instead.

"I, uh . . ." Jaz swallowed, surprised by the sudden change. "I don't think we should."

"What?" Dean said back, now the one that was surprised. "Why not?"

Jaz pursed his lips and glanced away from Dean's piercing gaze. "After all that's happened-" Jaz shook his head. "There are more Hunter's out there, so what's the difference if there's two less?"

Dean looked at him in utter disbelief. "You can't just up and quit, Jaz!"

"Why not?" Jaz demanded, his head jerking up. "Why the Hell not?"

Dean winced internally at the choice of words, but he couldn't blame Jaz for that. "People need us, that's why we do it so people won't have to know what's really out there!"

"They've been doing just fine for three months now," Jaz growled back. "While I was go crazy and seeing things and you were-" he gestured upward.

Dean sat back. "What do you mean _seeing_ things?"

Jaz's shifted away and back so quickly that Dean barely caught it in time, he hadn't realized he had said what he had actually said. "I didn't say seeing things," he denied.

Dean narrowed his eyes, not believing a word of it, but he let it go for the moment. When had gestured that when he was killed that he went to Heaven, he knew it was probably the best time to bring up the fact that he had actually been somewhere quite the opposite. But he didn't and knew that the chance to come clean was lost for the moment. There would be others, he told himself.

"When I lost you," Jaz breathed out. "It was like I lost a piece of myself. I shut down, Dean, and the only reason why I'm alive right now is because Bobby wouldn't quit."

Dean swallowed. "Jaz, what's with the red eyes?"

This time Jaz swallowed and looked away, ashamed. "I don't know, but one day that was all I could see in my head. They're evil and wicked, and I know - just know that they were coming for me." Jaz looked at Dean. "I don't where they came from; but I know it has to be some type of Monster. I haven't seen it before, but I know that it's some how important as disturbing as it is."

And there you have it Ladies and Gentlemen, Dean thought, another opening for you. But again he didn't say a word and just looked at Jaz, no really realizing the damage that he had caused - the pain that he had caused up until this very moment. Why had he thought that Jaz wouldn't go as crazy as he did, when Dean had lost him?

"I'm back now," Dean told him firmly, his hues growing slightly blurry. "And I'm not going any where." he promised.

But Jaz shook his head. "You can't promise something like that the way we live. Why do you think that I don't want to go Hunting any more? I don't know what would happen if I ever lost you again . . ." he trailed off, his dark eyes filling with tears.

"And what do you think would happen if I lost you again?" Dean slipped.

Jaz looked at him in confusion for a second, before he realized that dean must have meant when he died.

"We _can't_ just quit," Dean said, trying to change the subject. "It's a risk we're going to have to take."

"_I know_," Jaz sighed sadly after a moment of silence, very much reluctant to admit that he was right. And he was of course; you couldn't just not Hunt anymore - it was their life and their job, they were raised into and it was all that they knew.


	19. One Step Forward, Two Steps Back

**Bobby Singer: Early 40's**

**Dean Winchester: 26 years-old**

**Jasmine Rhodes: 23 years-old.**

**Puzzle Piece:**

**ONE STEP FORWARD, TWO STEPS BACK**

Jaz trailed behind Dean as the Hunter all but ran to the Impala and body flopped onto the hood. He spread his arms, trying to hug the hood, but didn't even come close to it. Dean rubbed his cheek against the sleek surface, relishing in his Baby's company once again.

"I missed you," he moaned, finally sliding from the hood.

Dean slowly walked around the classic car, checking her condition, all the while having contact with it. It was just like he never left, she was as sleek and as beautiful as she was the very first time Dean laid eyes on her. A pleased smile graced his lips as he turned Jaz.

Jaz smiled in return, glad that Dean was pleased about the Impala's condition. It was actually the only thing that Jaz had gone outside for during those three long months. Because where ever Dean had been, Jaz knew that he would be upset if his 'Baby' turned into one of the many other cars in the every over flowing Salvage yard. It was the only other thing that he did besides go crazy and hallucinate.

"I learned from the best," Jaz stroked Dean Ego, causing the man to perk up even more.

This time a grin broke out across his face as he stepped to Jaz, wrapping his arms around the younger man. "I knew there was a reason why I loved you." he dipped his head and kissed Jaz, thoroughly.

When Dean finally pulled back, Jaz looked at him with a dopey grin. "I found us a Hunt,"

"Really?" Dean raised a curious eyebrow.

Jaz nodded empathically. "It's your favorite,"

"It is?" Dean asked, slightly gleeful.

"Yep," Jaz popped out.

"Well?" Dean encouraged.

"Werewolves,"

* * *

><p>Jaz crouched with his back to a tree, trying to breathe shallowly. He knew that this was a very bad idea, but Dean had been so excited; how could he refuse? It was dark in the park that he and Dean were in, no even the light from the moon was hardly enough. It had been Werewolves alright, as in plural. The attacks had been to many for just one to be able to do all of this damage, so they had assumed that there had been two. They were right in a sense, there were two, but there was also one more.<p>

They had been in town for a little more than a week now, and had killed both the Werewolves. They were ready to pack up that morning after tying up a few ends, but since it was still a full moon this night they had decided to stay just to make sure. And as it happened there was one more. This one was trickier then the others; the first Werewolf had no idea they were coming, the second confused as to what had happened to the other one; but this one was onto them, knew that they were coming and knew that they had taken out the two before it.

It was smart, way smarter than either Jaz or Dean had anticipated. They had tracked it to the park, fallowed into a trap that it had laid. It was cunning and they weren't expecting that. It had separated Jaz and Dean from each other, the park was dark and quiet, it either made a single noise they knew it would be on top of them before either realized it. They could of course call each other, but that would put both of them in dangers way too.

Jaz held back the gasp of breath that he wanted to let out, but knew it would probably be the end of him. He wished that he could back back in time, back to when things were much easier. Back to when Dean wasn't torn to shreds, to when Sam hadn't tried to kill Jaz, back to when Jaz was a girl - the good old days.

He stared out into the darkness, only able to see vague shapes; benches, trash cans, trees and bushes, the slight gleam of the moon of the still surface of the still pond. There was a rustle of leaves near by, and he pressed himself harder against the rough bark of the tree behind him. There was more movement and it was coming closer; he clenched the nine-mil tighter, his finger hovering over the trigger. A branch snapped underfoot and he held his breath, not even daring to breathe least it be the Werewolf.

How was supposed to know to whether or not that whatever was closing the distance on his was Dean or the Werewolf? He couldn't just jump out and shoot because what if it was Dean? Sure, the silver wouldn't do anything, but it was the bullet that worried Jaz, because if he did shoot, he could hit something vital, killing Dean - that was something that Jaz wouldn't be able to go through again. Jaz was sure he blackout for a second in shock as Dean appeared beside him, seemingly out of the still air. Jaz gasped as air caught in his throat.

"What the fuck, Dean?" Jaz hissed right in Dean's ear, his voice nearly soundless.

Before Dean could say anything there was movement to Jaz's left. Both of them were up in an instant with there guns pointed, they fired simultaneously. The only sound was the last echoes of the gunshot; both were still, holding their breaths as they waited. The Werewolf would definitely know where they were now; Dean slowly tuned around, keeping an eye peeled for any movement. He backed up until he and Jaz were back to back.

They couldn't stay near that tree any longer; as one, they slowly started to move away. Their options were limited; whether they moved into the trees or stayed near the pond, the Werewolf had the advantage. Though in the trees they would have cover, so that was where they traveled albeit slowly.

They stopped once they found a spot that was away from their previous spot, but not too far into the trees that they'd get lost in a panic. To know if the Werewolf was coming, they each took a side of the tree; their guns at the ready, their eyes and ears peeled.

Jaz felt a puff of air brush his ear and before he could move, before he could make a sound the material against his chest tore and in turn his flesh. He couldn't seem to move, couldn't seem to make a sound. The gun fell from his grasp as what seemed like all of his life-blood poured from the slashes. Jaz didn't even have enough strength or mind to cough as blood welled in his throat before overflowing his mouth, and running down his chin. Complete blackness took him before he even hit the ground; he didn't hear the gunshots from Dean's gun, the sound of the dead Werewolf hitting the ground - didn't even hear Dean's desperate plea's.

* * *

><p><em>Jasmine . . . . <em>

_Jjassmiine . . . . _

_W-wake u-up . . . . _

_N-now-ow-ow_ . . . .

Jaz blinked his eyes open, the gentle and rough but assistant voice echoing around either him, his head or both. As he looked around, he noticed that he wasn't in the place that he had expected; Jaz wasn't exactly sure where, but he was sure that it wasn't here. The place seemed familiar, but Jaz couldn't quite place it; every time he tried to focus, the edges seemed to over lap and blur.

Jaz had also found the source of the voice that was in his head, but wasn't at the same time. Jaz had never seen this man before, but there was something familiar about him. He had dark curls upon his head, his eyes were that of Liquid Ocean, his chin covered in five-o-clock shadow; but those weren't what was familiar about him. Jaz stared at him hard, his hazel eyes narrowing in concentration. The man stood there, not moving and not saying anything, he just watched Jaz with a very intense stare, his tan trench coat suiting him perfectly even though his stance looked slightly awkward, as if he wasn't yet used to his own skin.

And that was when it hit Jaz like a rock; the tan trench coat. It was the same coat that he had vaguely say when Dean was gone and he was going crazy. It was the same coat that he had seen on that man that he had seen on the hill outside of the window - the man that he had hallucinated. And now he was here - wherever here was - and Jaz was going crazy all over again.

"You're that guy that I've been hallucinating ever since Dean died." Jaz whispered, only now feeling slightly frightened.

"I am as real as you are in a sense," he said back, his throat sounding as dry as his full lips. "And Dean is no longer dead; I thought that you've come to terms with that by now."

Jaz's mouth hung open. "I have,"

Jaz snapped it shut, finally hearing his voice for the first time; it was a familiar voice, one that he had associated with himself for the first twenty-one years of his life, back to when he was a girl - way back before the Witch had cursed him.

"What's wrong with my voice?" Jaz demanded, finally standing up; feeling oddly light on his feet.

The man cocked his head slightly, his eyes flickering across Jaz's body. "I do not hear any discrepancies with your voice."

Jaz slowly, reluctantly looked down at himself too, his hands coming up to his chest and getting a handful. "Why do I have boobs?" he demanded.

"I believe that female Humans have that in their anatomy, yes." the man raised a brow.

"Are you saying I'm a girl again?" Jaz demanded.

"Yes,"

And that was when it hit Jaz like a ton of bricks; he was a girl again. And if he was a girl again, that meant that he was . . . dead. Dead? How could he be dead when he had just gotten Dean back?

"I . . ." Jaz trailed off, not knowing what to say - speechless. "I'm dead."

"Yes" he agreed. "This has happened once before, but you never crossed over fully so you did not change back to your original form."

"What do you mean, I died before?" Jaz asked, still confused as to what in the Hell was going on.

"Three months prior to now," he clarified. "When Samuel stabbed you, killing you. Dean, wracked with grief sold his soul to bring you back, a Hell Hound killed him - sending him to Hell."

Jaz shook his head in denial. "I didn't die and Dean was killed by a Black Dog."

The man cocked his head slightly again, his blue eyes filled with confused pity. "Why do you try to lie to yourself?"

"You're the one who's lying!" Jaz shouted, suddenly angry.

"I do not lie, cannot lie." he said.

"Who the Hell are you?" Jaz demanded. "What do you want form me?"

He shifted from his awkward stance to one much straighter and proud. "I am Castiel, Angel of the Lord, Warrior to God's command. And I am your Guardian Angel."

Jaz gave him a blank stare before he burst out in laughter. "Angel's, God, Guardians - that's all fantasy!" When Castiel's face stayed serious, the smile fell Jaz's face. "You're serious,"

The expression on his face stayed the same a Jaz felt himself deflate, all of his energy rushing out of him. He sunk to the ground, his head in his hands. Castiel's face creased with concern, knowing that he couldn't fail again. Jaz shouldn't have died the first time, but when he had tried to come to his rescue, his brothers had stopped him and he was to late - Dean had sold his soul and Jaz was save by a red-eyed Demon. But he wouldn't let that happen again, he would stay by Jaz's side, there the instant his Charge needed him. Castiel crouched down in front of Jaz, pulling his arms down. Jaz gave no resistance and Castiel lifted up his chin. Wet tear tracks trailed down Jaz's cheek and his eyes were closed. Castiel stared at Jaz.

"I will never leave you again, our souls are together, and we are one." Castiel whispered.

He leaned forward, breathing the breath of life back in Jaz, kissing _her_.


	20. Over and Again

**Bobby Singer: Early 40's**

**Dean Winchester: 26 years-old**

**Jasmine Rhodes: 23 years-old.**

**Castiel: Angel of Thursday**

**Puzzle Piece:**

**OVER AND AGAIN**

Dean, he, he couldn't take this, not again, not after everything that had happened. He couldn't loose Jaz, not again, but Dean wasn't sure if he could bring Jaz back again. He crawled over to where Jaz lay face down on the ground, carefully turning him over and pulling him into his lap. For the first time he saw what had caused Jaz's death; just like last time there was so much blood, too much blood. Through the torn gap in his shirt, Dean could just make out four parallel gashes; four very deep, very fatal gashes.

He tore his gaze away, feeling sick to his stomach and his heart shattering as he looked at Jaz's face. His hazel brown eyes were open wide, staring blankly at the canopy above; his usually tan skin was turning pale and cool. Dean hugged Jaz's still lax body to his chest, burying his face in Jaz's neck. He let the tears flow freely, not caring; no one was around anyway, he had nothing to hide.

This was the third time that Jaz had died; the first time that Jaz's heart stopped was on his first Hunt when he was sixteen, the second when Sam had stabbed him and his bled out, and now because of a Hunt that Dean had wanted to go on.

Dean started to rock back and forth, clutching Jaz closer to him. His mind was blank and frantic, so much so that he didn't noticed as Jaz got lighter, smaller, the lengthening of hair and the sealing of wounds, the development of breasts and the lack of manhood. Not until Jasmine jerked in his grasp with a huge gasp that nearly cracked her ribs. Dean froze, sure that he had imagined the move, but when Jasmine shifted uncomfortably in grasp he finally loosened his grip.

"Jaz . . .?" he said faintly as he looked once again into Jasmine alive hazel brown eyes. "You're— you're alive." he whispered in shock, yet to notice that Jasmine was a women again.

Jasmine gave him an awkward smile. "Hi,"

Dean could only look down at her. "You're you again," he finally said, surprised. "A girl, I mean."

"Yes," Jasmine sighed struggling to sit up, Dean helped her.

"H-how?" Dean asked her, so confused and happy at the same time.

Jasmine just shrugged as she shifted in Dean's lap, trying to get comfortable. She wasn't sure what she was supposed tell Dean, still not sure herself whether what she had dreamed was real or not or the fact that she had died now and before. She still wasn't comfortable with that fact, and that Dean would sell his soul—so Jasmine decided that she would not bring it up with him until she was sure what the Angle-guy had said.

"Did you get the last Werewolf?" Jasmine asked, trying to twist in Dean's lap to look over his shoulder, but Dean prevented her from doing so.

He felt a small shiver travel down his spin as he relived what had happened between the Werewolf and Jasmine. "It's dead," he confirmed.

Jasmine let out a breath she didn't know that she was holding. She wrapped an arm around Dean's neck and pulled him close, burring his face in her neck. Tears—ones of relief this time—wetted her neck and soaked into the collar of her shirt. Her other hand tenderly feeling the four raised scars that were at an angle across her chest—just like the one that was on her abdomen.

**SUPERNATURAL - PP - PAGE BREAK**

Jasmine looked at herself in the bathroom mirror; standing on a step-stool naked so that she could see all of herself. Finally, after they got out of the park and back to Bobby's, Jasmine had a hard time even going to the bathroom—Dean having a really hard and complicated time letting her out of her sight. But finally, she had done and she was sure that she had been in here a long time—just looking at herself. Curse Bobby for having no body-length mirrors in the house.

She looked the same, relatively the same as she did when she was 22—except maybe a little more seasoned. More scars than she had before. More memories than she had before. Her hair was long and straight again. Her hands smaller and so were her feet—she was smaller in general. Her lips were lush, her nose still heart-shaped, her brows were thin and sculptured. her buttocks was still firm, enough so the bounce a nickel off of it. Her breasts were still perky and a fitted double B-cup.

The same.

The only thing that was different was the fact that between her breasts were four thin, white, smooth scars that crossed her tan skin at an angle. The contrast between the white of the now new scars and the tan of her skin was big. And noticing that, she noticed the gruesome difference between the scars that were healed by an Angel, and the scar healed by the crossroads Demon. The former were again smooth and hardly noticeable, while the latter was jagged and puckered.

And the remembrance of that, led her to think about the fact that Dean had sold his soul in order to save her, and that she had a Guardian Angel. Did Dean really love her that much, as to sell his soul and bring her back to life. While when Dean had died she was completely lost and broken. Even though she was glad that she wasn't dead or anything, she was pissed that Dean had sacrificed his soul and his life, even though she was already dead.

She stepped off the stool and quickly slipped on her old clothes—thanking God that she had kept them instead of throwing them away. She gave herself a once over before she left the bathroom in search of Dean. They really needed to chat.

Jasmine found Dean in the living room. He was sitting eagled on the couch, an arm flung over the arm rest, a socked foot up on the coffee table and his head lain across the back of the couch. Jasmine sat in the chair that was next to it, biting the inside of her cheek as contemplated what to say—hating herself for not making a real plan first.

"Jasmine," Dean said, causing Jasmine to jump slightly. "Why are you staring?"

She watched as he slowly raised his head to look at her, and it was then that she realized there was no beating around the bush on this subject. So she jumped in head first, hoping the whole while that Dean wouldn't freak out.

"Can you tell me what happened a year ago?" she asked, and at his raised brow she clarified. "After Sam stabbed me,"

Dean's eyes flickered for a second, and Jasmine saw his Adams apple bob. "You know what happened."

Jasmine shook her head. "I don't actually. There was Sam stabbing me and then there was me waking up. I don't know the in between." she told Dean.

"That's because you were unconscious." he was still avoiding.

"When I woke up, that wound was healed." Jasmine said with slight frustration. "I may not be a doctor, but I'm also not stupid! It would take at least three weeks for a wound like that to heal, and there was no way I was out for that long."

Dean gave her a hard stare. "It does and you were."

"No!" Jasmine growled back. "I was dead—and you sold your god-damned soul!" with the intensity she was on her feet, looking down at Dean as he looked up at her with wide eyes and a pale face.

"What—what are you talking about?" He stammered out, getting to his own feet.

"You know what I'm talking about, Dean Winchester. And don't even try to deny it!" she threatened him.

"No," Dean was sticking to his guns, even though he could see the truth in Jasmine's eyes and because he didn't want to know how broken he had been—and how frightened he still was. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"Bobby!" Jasmine hollered.

"_I'm not a part of this_!" Bobby shouted back instantly.

"You tell me right now, Bobby." she yelled. "I know you can hear us!"

Her question was answered when she heard the front door slamming.

"Stop trying to lie to me, Dean." she said softly. "You sold your soul and I want to know why."

Dean seemed to sag, all of the energy leaving him as he fell back onto the couch behind him. "Fine, I sold my soul. Are you happy now?"

"Of course not," Jasmine sat down beside him.

"When Sam stabbed you, you did die." he confessed. "And I just lost it. It was either selling my soul to bring you back and gain another week with you. Or kill myself and join you."

"Wait—a week?" Jasmine asked, a slight tremble in voice. "You mean that the whole time that I was broken because I thought that it was my fault that that dog tore you to shreds was stupid on my part, because I couldn't have prevented it any ways? I'm such a fool,"

Dean lifted his head, his expression frozen. "You are not." he told her. "I should have just done the normal thing and killed myself."

Jasmine looked at him. "That's not the normal way, Dean. The normal thing to do if grieve."

"You mean like you did?"

She gave him a hurt expression. "That was uncalled for."

"Sorry." he reached out for her hand.

"No," she squeezed his hand. "I'm sorry."

He gave her a small, twisted smile; leaning forward and kissing her cheek.

"There's something else that I have to tell you."

Dean winced, knowing that there was a big chance that he wasn't going to like what he was about to hear—and he could tell the Jasmine was thinking the same thing—but he stayed silent and gave her a ready nod.

"I have a 'Guardian Angel'." she blurted, figuring that beating around the bush would be useless—and she wasn't even sure there was a bush to beat around at the moment.

Dean didn't say anything as he stared at her, his expression blank. What was he supposed to say in comment to that any way? Other than believing the fact that Jasmine had lost her mind.

"It's been a long night—" Dean started.

"No."

"You've been through allot—" he continued over her protest.

"It's not like that!"

"After you get some shut eye, we can discuss it in the morning—" he said over her exclaim.

"Dean!" Jasmine shouted, standing up in protest. "Stop thinking that I've gone crazy." she demanded.

"Jasmine." Dean looked up at her, making a calming gesture.

But she wouldn't have it, she shook her head with venom. "This isn't even that far out there." she told him. "Apparently I've died three times in my life, Dean. And I've come back three times over."

Dean shook his head in denial. He wasn't stupid of course, just stubborn. Jasmine had actually died three times, and on two of those occasions he had been there and was unable to prevent it. "Jasmine, this is ridicules."

"Stop playing stupid, Dean. You know better than that." she shook her head slightly. "There was that time on my first Hunt. Remember? The one that you said that I had even died, but here I am because of Castiel. When that Werewolf killed me and I died before I even hit the ground, coming back to like in you arms, because of Castiel. And when Sam stabbed me and I died, he would have fixed that too, but you already sold your soul and the Demon had brought me back."

"Who's this Castiel?" Dean demanded.

"I already told you." she snapped back. "You went to Hell, he brought you back!"

"How can you even think that?" Dean asked. Angels weren't real, Demons were.

"And I'm not crazy. Okay?" she breathed, her eyes squeezed shut in frustration. Why couldn't Dean understand? "After you died, I saw him multiple times."

"In the house?" he was scandalized.

"No. Outside." she gave him the what-the-hell-look. "That's what you're worried about? Whether he was in the house or not?"

"Well, what else am I supposed to worry about?" he asked.

"You're not supposed to worry about anything." she told him sadly. She sat back down beside him. "I just wanted you to know, that's all."

Dean gave her an apologetic look; feeling like a complete ass. And he had been. What good would it do to deny facts that had already been learned or actions and events that had already gone down?

"You are right." Dean told her and Jasmine looked at him with raised brows. "You did die, all of those times. Back in the graveyard I wasn't sure, the way that you looked . . ." he shook his head. "I was sure, but then you gasped and you looked normal; so I thought that it was just my mind freaking out because it was your first Hunt and I didn't know what to expect. And when Sam stabbed you, you were dead before I even got there. I couldn't handle it, I just couldn't cope with you being dead. Then I remembered that one case that Dad had before we found you—about the Crossroad's Demon. I saw a chance, and I took it. I tried to bargain with her, in 10 years I'd give her my soul if she brought you back, but it was denied. So I went down, but each time she said no. Then, with one final, desperate attempt; I said one week." Dean took a breath. "I didn't tell you because I knew how you would react, and I wanted to spend as much time with you that I could before my week was up."

Jasmine looked at him slightly shocked. Even after all of their years together, Dean had never opened up. And she was even more surprised when he kept talking, on a roll now.

"I didn't really know what to think when I woke up in that grave. But when I got to see you again, it really didn't matter what had brought me back, as long as I was with you. And then I wanted everything to go back to normal, to go Hunt like we did before everything went crazy. You didn't want to go, I could see it and you even said so, but I pushed. You found that Hunt and I was so happy that things were going to be normal again that I rushed in. You died . . . again. I didn't know what to do, what I could do to bring you back this time . . . so I figured that I would just off myself or something." he paused.

"Dean . . ." Jasmine said quietly, really shocked now. She reached out, swiping a tear away that had leaked form Dean's emerald hues.

"And then you were alive in my arms. You were you again." he turned to her, his eyes desperate. "You are you, right?"

"Of course I am." she laughed.

"Sorry." he said. "Of course, Everything just crazy . . . I'm crazy."'

Jasmine shook her, a smile playing on her lips. "The I'm crazy too." she told him, crawling into his lap and straddling him. "And do you know what a few crazy people like us get to have?" she asked, twisting her fingers in his short locks.

"No." he shook his head, his hands on her hips.

"We get to have crazy sex." she ducked her head and kissed him fiercely on the lips.


	21. Epilogue: A New Begining

**About Nine Months Later:**

**Bobby Singer: Mid 40's**

**Dean Winchester: 27 years-old**

**Jasmine Rhodes: 24 years-old.**

**Castiel: Human**

**Puzzle Piece—Epilogue:**

**A NEW BEGINING**

"We there yet?" Jasmine asked, her voice slightly strained.

Dean glowered at her out of the corner of his eye, before turning his eyes back to the road. "I think you would know if we were there." he told her.

Jasmine stuck her tongue at him before glance at the back seat. "Cas?" she asked.

"If we had taken a right instead of a left, we would be at the appropriate location." Castiel confirmed.

Jasmine gave Dean a pointed look.

"Yeah, because Mr. Angel knows all." Dean said sarcastically.

Jasmine huffed out a sigh. "He doesn't like when you call him that, and you know full well that he's Human now." her voice was in monotone. "And any way, he would know because he has a map." she pointed out.

"And I'm the driver." Dean countered.

Jasmine closed her eyes for a second. "And I'm the pregnant women who was supposed to have her child a week ago with a full bladder!" she said quick and in one breath.

Dean winced but conceded and turned the Impala around. A pregnant Jasmine had been winning for nine months now, because there were something's that Dean would never put his finger on and it was that. After one of Jasmine's "_Two Crazy People Having Crazy Sex_" theory, she had gotten pregnant. They hadn't thought about it; it was spontaneous and not planned. Dean didn't have a condom, Jasmine wasn't on any type of birth control—her having just turned back into a woman hours earlier. But if Dean had to, he'd say that that was the best sex he had ever had.

Not long after that they had found out that Jasmine was pregnant. It was a major surprise, but actually not an unwanted one. The night that that werewolf killed Jasmine and she came back, Dean had decided that they weren't going to Hunt anymore—Jasmine didn't have a problem with that fact either.

Not long after that, Jasmine had introduced Castiel to Dean. And by doing so, had caused Castiel to turn into a Human. Jasmine wouldn't turn him away, and that actually irked Dean—and no, he wasn't jealous or anything. He just found it hard to get along with the Fallen Angel. He found it hard to see the way that he looked at Jasmine; a gaze filled with love and devotion. Dean was sure it was harmless, that Cas wouldn't physically act on that love—but Dean couldn't keep an eye on him all the time.

Then not long after that, they had moved out of Bobby's house and bought one of their own. It was still new and that was the reason why Dean was having a slightly difficult time finding—plus the fact that it was dark out and the houses were few and far between. And the reason it was late and they were still on the road was because they were in town for a check-up. Jasmine was passed her due date. Dean had wanted to get a room and stay until she had the baby, but Jasmine had said that there was no way that she was going to sleep in a crappy bed for God knows how long, when she had a perfectly good one back home. And because Dean knew not to anger the beast, he did as Jasmine said. And no, he was in no way whipped.

"Dean," Jasmine winced. "Pull over."

"What?" Dean glanced at her, confused.

"Pull over." she repeated through gritted teeth. "I have to go now, or else it'll be soaking into the seats."

Dean quickly pulled the Impala to the side of the road, knowing that Jasmine meant what she said. Jasmine opened the passenger door, and with effort and a grunt, heaved herself out of the Impala. Carefully, and using the Impala's headlights to see, made her way into the bush along side the road. She found a bush a way in and out of sight of the car, but close enough so that didn't trip and break her neck.

As she pulled down her pants and underwear, she wished for a second that she was still a guy—it would make trying to pee that much easier. But she dismissed it instantly; if she were still a guy then she would be having a baby with the man that she loved. She squatted or tried to, it being hard with a belly as big as hers. If she thought getting out of the Impala was tough, this was harder. She knew that either way she was probably going to pee all over her pants, but at the moment she didn't care; she just needed to really go. And she did, and surprisingly didn't pee all over herself. She did go longer than she had expected, but what did she know? She was sure that nowadays she went like every other hour.

She cleaned herself up with some tissue from her jacket pocket. And trying to pull her pant's up was a bigger feat than trying to squat. As she stood up straight, she felt the baby kick. Jasmine paused, her hand rubbing her stomach soothingly.

"I know, baby." she cooed softly. "You'll be out here kickin' and screamin' with momma soon enough."

Before, Jasmine would never have pictured herself doing this. Getting pregnant and having a baby with the man that she loved. Not with their life of Hunting, of how she had grown up and the fact that she didn't think that she could ever lead a normal life. But it had been relatively easy, and getting pregnant just helped move things along. And when she did find out that she was pregnant, it had obviously been a surprise, but a delightful one—to have something of her and something of Dean's mixed together to make another Human being? It was the most amazing thing in the world.

When she finally made it back to the Impala, she opened the back door instead on the passenger one.

"What are you doing?" Dean asked.

"I need to stretched." she told Dean. She raised a brow at Castiel. "Shove over would you, Cas?"

Instantly Cas did shove over until he was now sitting behind Dean. Jasmine slowly folded herself into the back seat as best she could. She shifted a few times, a hand on her stomach as she tried to get comfortable.

"What's wrong?" Dean twisted in his seat, concern marring his face. "You're not having contractions or anything are you?" his expression took on a panicky quality.

"_Pfft_." she scoffed. "Trust me, you'd know—I'd probably be dancin'."

Dean gave her a small smile as he turned back around and pulled the Impala back onto the road. "Don't worry; we'll be back at the house soon enough and you can stretch out properly on the bed."

"The baby's just kicking." she rubbed her stomach again. "It'll probably be a while yet." Jasmine glanced over and saw Cas looking at her, his crystal blue eyes flickering between her face and her stomach. She gave him a smile. "No need to be shy, Cas." she grabbed his hand and placed it on her stomach.

His eyes widened with wonder, just as they did every time he placed his hand on her stomach and felt the baby kick. Her smile widened and she left her hand where it was; her fingers over laying Castiel's. She did feel some discomfort though, and it had nothing to do with the baby kicking. Maybe it was acid reflex or something. She tried to ignore it, but as Dean pulled into their driveway, she let out a grunt of surprise.

"What?" Dean demanded as he parked in front of the garage.

"I—I don't know." Jasmine said, breathless as she looked down at her stomach. "I think the baby just gave a harder kick then usual."

Dean turned the car off and he and Cas helped Jasmine out of the car. Dean her arm and put an arm around her waist, helping her walked as a looked of discomfort looked to be taking over her face. Castiel held the house door open for them.

"Don't worry." Dean told her. "We'll get you up stair and into bed, you'll be just fine."

Jasmine nodded as Dean led her to the stairs, but before she could even make the first step, another grunt left her lips. She froze, bending forward slightly, a hand on her stomach.

"You have to be kidding me," she growled.

"What is it?" Dean asked, his own voice slightly strained.

"I think I'm having contractions." she told Dean.

"Are you sure?" he asked.

"I'm pretty sure." she said. "My water must have broken when I went pee."

"Okay, uh . . ." Dean's brain froze.

"_Dean_!"

"Okay." Dean shook himself. "We have to get to the Hospital."

"We can't." Jasmine sighed. "It's too far and you'll never forgive me if I give birth in the Impala."

Dean nodded at that, a flash of shame. Well, what are we supposed to do, Jasmine? This is way over my head!"

"Dean, calm down. It's not that big of a deal."

"Not that big of a deal? This is huge, Jasmine. We're about to have a baby, for God's sake!" Dean was really panicking now; the hospital was to far away and Dean had no clue as to how to deliver a baby.

"Cas!" Jasmine shouted, suddenly getting an idea.

Castiel appeared from around the corner. "What's the matter?" he asked, knowing instantly by the freaked out look on Dean's face.

"Do you know how to deliver a baby?" Jasmine asked him.

Dean paled as he realized what Jasmine was doing; he started to shake his head.

After a moment of consideration, Castiel nodded.

"That is not happening." Dean said firmly.

"Dean—" Jasmine started, a wince crossing her face.

"No." Dean interrupted her. "He is not going to see your hoo-ha."

Castiel blushed at the mention of that and Jasmine glared at Dean.

"Dean, this is not the time." Jasmine scolded.

"Oh, this is the best time." Dean said.

"So you're fine with a doctor seeing it?" Jasmine asked.

"Yes." Dean nodded. "I am."

"Why?" Jasmine demanded, forgetting about the painful contractions for a moment. Dean was being so stubborn right now that they were about to get anywhere any way. "What's the difference between a doctor and Castiel seeing my downstairs?"

Dean looked at her, tight lipped. He knew that she knew that he didn't like what was between Castiel and herself. But he guessed that at the moment that there was no other choice. "Fine." he said grudgingly. "But that doesn't mean I like it."

**SUPERNATURAL - PP - PAGE BREAK**

Jasmine lay back, her long locks clinging to her sweaty temples. She was exhausted, totally and completely. She didn't know what to expect by giving birth, but she hadn't expected it to be thing bad. She felt like a puddle—and not the kind of puddle that you turn into after you have really good sex either—she was just a puddle.

And later she knew that she would be embarrassed about the fact that Cas had seen her hoo-ha, as Dean had called it. But at the moment she was beyond happy, she was as happy as happy can be. Taking a breath, she sat up with a little help from Castiel. She looked at Dean holding their new baby.

Dean had been upset about the fact that Castiel was going to deliver their baby, but the instant that baby was in his arms he turned into goo. He couldn't help it; here he was holding his own flesh in blood. Holding in his arms a life that he helped create. Dean didn't every want to put this little life down. He glanced at Jasmine who was sitting up and looking at him with a grin.

"Guess who's a Daddy." she said.

Dean grinned back at her. "Guess whose Mommy." he said back, leaning forward and carefully handing the bundle over to her.

She took the baby, cradling the infant in her arms. "Jonathan Robert Winchester, huh?" she whispered, looking down at her knew baby boy fondly. "Your going to be a looker one day, just like you father." she cooed softly.

"You know," he looked at her. "Since we love Jonathan so much, there wouldn't be any harm in trying for another, would there?"

Jasmine's eyes snapped to him. "Dean, I just gave birth to what felt like a turkey." her tongue flicked across her lips. "We ain't gonna have sex for a long while."

But Dean shook his head at her. "You can never resist the legend that is Dean Winchester." he gave her a haughty look.

"No," she laughed. "I think it's the other way around."

Dean grinned at Jasmine, leaning forward he placed a kiss on the sleeping Jonathan's forehead, before turning and giving Jasmine's lips a soft peck. He knew that soon this house was going to full of many little pattering feet.

**note: I hope you enjoyed this fic, and please comment. I loved this coupling of Dean and Jasmine and I hope that you did too. Also, if you didn't realize it, the Dean and Jasmine son was named Jonathan after John Winchester, and his middle name was Robert after Bobby. I just love Happy Endings, don't you?**


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